Order of the Otter
by x-eleven
Summary: What if Harry's upbringing by the Dursleys had been more normal and accepting? How would his relationship with Dumbledore be different?
1. The Other Lucius

**The Other Lucius**

 _24 July, 1990_

A most unusual guest presented himself just outside the wrought iron gate that led to Malfoy Manor. He stood just a bit over 100cm and about 18KG, big for his kind. His thin and delicate look concealed his true strength. If he had to, he could easily match his relative, the badger, in ferocity. He could easily kill animals larger than himself, if not through superior strength, then through superior intelligence. He wore no clothing other than his thick, soft fur.

He watched as the abstract curly cues twisted and bent to form a frightening face: "What do you want?", it asked in a clanking, near robotic voice that carried not a trace of friendliness.

"I'm here to see Lucius Malfoy. It concerns the state of the Malfoy fortune in the vaults of Gringott's, among other things", he replied in an accent like no human.

He waited, and about five minutes later: "You may enter", as the gates swung open. The face returned to being just abstract decorations like those gracing many an iron gate.

The visitor dropped to all fours and trotted up the path towards the manor house. Albino peacocks scattered at the sight of the predator as he passed through the gardens. At the front door, he stood once again and knocked. He could hear approaching footfalls.

The front door opened, and Lucius Malfoy, pallid skin and light hair contrasted with his all-black outfit filled the entrance. He had the silver handled walking stick in hand, the handle of which concealed his wand.

"Mr Malfoy", he greeted, "may I come in? Have a word?"

"So you are an animagus? Drop the disguise".

"This is the real me. I'm not an animagus".

Malfoy whipped out his wand: "Revelio hominum"

Nothing happened. The spell he cast showed that this guest was what he appeared to be: a European fresh water otter.

"How is it that you speak? Why are you here?"

"I'll answer all your questions. May I?"

Lucius held the door open and led his unexpected guest down a hall with dark purple walls upon which hung family portraits. They settled into chairs beside the fireplace, now unused in the July heat.

"Go on", Lucius prompted.

"I am here on behalf of my master..."

"And who would that be?"

"I can't mention any names, as my master is a technomage, and a great Seer. As you are undoubtedly aware, as a follower of the Dark Lord..."

"That is a lie!"

"Don't bullshit me, Mr Malfoy. There's no need for that; I'm not connected to the Ministry in any way, shape, or form. The Dark Lord is becoming active again, and all his Death Eaters - including you - damn well know that, as does my master.

"As I was about to explain, he is a technomage".

"And what, exactly, is a technomage?"

"You know about the International Statute of Secrecy of 1692?", he didn't wait for an answer. "Do you know what else was going on in 1692?"

"If you have a point, get to it".

"It was also the dawn of what would become known among muggles as the Age of Enlightenment. Some magicals didn't agree with the Statute, and so defied it. They applied the muggles' new Scientific Method to magic, to understand magic in a more systematic, scientific manner. Later they began to combine magic with muggle technology. It's all very illegal, and the various Ministries of Magic are continually trying to stamp them out. You can appreciate why I can't reveal the name.

"When my master discovered that the Dark Lord is rising once again, he needed an agent. He created a talisman and sent it abroad to seek the one he could trust, the one with an incorruptible purity. He was led to my holt in Devon, the Land Between the Two Rivers: the Torridge and the Taw. You see, my master didn't specify that his new agent had to be a human".

"That still doesn't explain..."

"I was getting to that. He used his knowledge of both magic and genetic engineering to change my DNA, to add a bit more to my native intelligence. Once I agreed to his offer of apprenticeship, he used memory modification technology to infuse me with his understanding and abilities. I can't say more without revealing too much.

"I can do something for you, and you can do something for me".

"What will you do for me, and what is it going to cost me?"

"First of all, I can give you respectability, real respectability: the kind you can't buy with gold. You will never have to live with the constant fear that someone will discover the Dark Lord's Dark Mark on your arm. If you are asked if you were ever a Death Eater, you can answer in the negative, and no one will know the difference. Interested?"

"That's the most absurd thing I have ever heard. Didn't it occur to you that there wasn't a Death Eater left alive who didn't try to hide his Mark?"

"They couldn't but I can".

"What makes you think that I am not in complete agreement with the Dark Lord's aims?"

"You would have to be a fool to believe that, and you are no fool. The Dark Lord had his ass handed to him by a babe in a cradle. That happened because he went off, half cocked, after hearing a 'prophecy' second hand from a source he didn't even know. Did he seek to verify the claims of this prophecy? Did it not occur to him that acting on that prophecy just might make it self fulfilling? Did he not create his very own nemesis? How could a mere babe possibly threaten him? Even if he believed it so, why didn't he just strangle that utterly defenseless child after eliminating any possible threat from his parents? It was the use of the Killing Curse that was his undoing, isn't that true? Is this the kind of leader _you_ wish to follow?

"Ten years ago, you were an idealistic youth filled with dreams of wealth, power, and the promise that magi could take their rightful place in the world. No more hiding in the shadows; they could work their magic without worrying about who might see. The promise that all the remaining pure bloodlines would be protected against the taint of muggles and mudbloods.

"Then you discovered the truth about the Dark Lord. You and all the other Death Eaters, even those well within the Dark Lord's inner circle, were little more than slaves to his every whim, all controlled by those Dark Marks. He would never accept co-rulers, never share with any of you that power you helped him acquire. Too late did you discover you were the useful idiots. You know what becomes of useful idiots once they have outlived their usefulness? How many of his faithful followers are still rotting in Azkaban? Did he provide any contingencies to keep those followers safe? Did he even care?

"Today, you are a family man with a lovely wife, and a son who can make you proud. You have fame and fortune. You have a high position among magi. Do you really want to risk all of that on another wild goose chase led by a proved silly goose? Your Dark Lord failed you once, do you really want to give him a second chance to drag you down with him?"

"Say I believed you, what do you think the Dark Lord will do to us? He doesn't tolerate failure very well, and I highly doubt he would be any more forgiving of outright betrayal".

"He won't do a thing. He will call his followers through the Dark Mark. Anyone failing to heed his call will be known to him. If you were rid of that curse, you would neither receive his call, nor would he know you didn't answer. I can assure you: he doesn't care anything about his followers. I doubt he would even remember who you are".

"How would you do that?"

"Let me see it".

Lucius rolled up his left sleeve to reveal that tatoo-like Dark Mark on his left forearm. The otter placed both hands on the Mark, and began a chant that was high pitched, and sounded like every "word" began with a 'Y'. Soon, he felt a warmness, instead of the prickliness and burning of the Mark as it grew stronger for the first time in a decade, as the Mark began to fade. As the otter's chant ended, the Mark was gone without a trace.

"How..."

"The original spell was cast in a beast tongue. Reversing that spell can not be done unless the counter spell is also beast tongue, so I said the incantation in Otterish. I also did a memory modification that guarantees your denials of ever being a Death Eater will be the truth".

"You mentioned finances".

"Be sure you write what I'm about to tell you so you don't forget".

Lucius went to gather parchment, an ink pot and quill.

"Go to Gringott's and tell the head teller you would like a meeting with Director Ragnok..."

"You don't just see..."

"Don't interrupt me again. Tell him that this concerns the contents of Vault Number 37. That will get his attention, and the Director will see you. Be sure you get this right, otherwise the goblins will separate you from your head. Tell the Director that the pass phrase is 'Magic is might'".

The otter unslung the pack from his back and began rummaging through it. It was one of those bottomless packs most magi carried. He pulled out something that looked not the least bit like a magical artifact.

"Use this to open the strong box that will be delivered to the Director's office. You operate it like this".

He demonstrated which button to press, and the device produced a guttural hissing sound.

"This will open the box, find the key with the Malfoy crest on it, and hand it to Ragnok with instructions that the account attached to that key is to be accessed by no one other than yourself or your wife. It is important that you also specify that you are rescinding any and all joint accounts. This will prevent anyone other than you or your wife from taking out funds".

Malfoy remembered: that was one of the signs of loyalty Voldemort demanded of anyone he considered worthy of being a follower - that all their gold and assets be given unlimited, joint access. Of course, the Dark Lord would need financing and lots of it to bring on his New Order.

"What do you want in return? I assume there's some catch".

"I require the use of the Malfoy wardstones".

"If you know what wardstones are, you also know how _highly_ illegal it is to even posses them, let alone use them? The only reason we have them is they are ancient heirlooms, and as such, no sanction against having them as they weren't illegal when they first came into the family's possession. It is still illegal to actually use them. I don't see what good they will do you: as soon as you cross a warded place, you trigger any alarms that warn of intrusion".

"You are forgetting one thing: I am an animal. There will be no alarms. Do we have a deal?"

"We shall see. First, I will visit Gringott's, see if your story has any validity. If it is as you say, then you will get the stones".

"I understand, and I assure you, everything is as I said".

"When I deliver the stones, will that satisfy you?"

"For now, I can't promise I won't be needing future favours. Considering all I've done..."

"That's fair", Malfoy completed that thought, "if you save the Malfoy fortune".

"At least, the favours I request won't send you to Azkaban - or worse".

As his guest turned to go: "I didn't catch your name?"

"I go by Lucius Lutra"


	2. Gringott's

**Gringott's**

The next day, Lucius Malfoy visited the seedy gin mill, the Leaky Cauldron, as this was the access point into Diagon alley. It was located in a rather dodgy London neighborhood, from the outside, looked like a low rent gin mill where the lower muggle classes went to drown the quiet desperation of their meager lives in cheap gin. If the appearance wasn't enough, there were muggle repelling charms in effect. Charms that filled any muggles who got too close with an almost paralyzing foreboding. Or they would suddenly "remember" an urgent appointment, only to realize later that the appointment was some other day. Everyone disremembers sometimes. The Leaky Cauldron also had rooms to let to magi in town on business.

No one took notice as Lucius flooed into the bar. The barkeep, Old Tom, was wiping glasses with a dirty old rag. He made his way through the back door into a courtyard that at one time must have been for outdoor eating and drinking. That was well over fifty years ago. The courtyard long neglected, and reclaimed by nature as weeds and small trees had taken over, further cracking the already cracked concrete pad. As he had done so many times before, he counted along the brick wall and tapped one particular brick with his wand. That brick wiggled a little, then a little more. Bricks were flying, forming an archway beyond which lay Diagon Alley - unseen by muggle eyes.

The white marble building of Gringott's dominated the scene, its dome rising above every other shop. He climbed the marble steps leading to the main entrance, past the goblin guards who ran a routine Probity Scan to detect any identity concealing magic. Through the heavy bronze double doors, then through the silver inner double doors, the first stop the security desk.

"Greetings Mr Malfoy. It's been too long. I'll need to see your wand, a mere formality", the goblin behind the desk said apologetically. When it came to business, all enmity between the Goblin Nation and the Wand-carriers was set aside. "How is the lovely Mrs Malfoy?"

"She's good. Thanks for asking".

"And young Draco? He starts at Hogwarts?"

"Next year, when he's eleven".

"Oh, that's right... Your wand, Mr Malfoy".

Malfoy crossed the floor, past twin rows of teller windows, to the head teller's desk at the very back.

"I would like to see the Director", Lucius announced.

"I'm very sorry, Mr Malfoy, but Director Ragnok has very strict rules about appointments".

"Tell him it involves Vault 37 and what's inside".

The colour drained from the goblin's face upon hearing this: "Wait right here", he said, as he put up the "Closed" sign. The near panic brought on by the Director's feelings about unscheduled interruptions, and by knowing that Vaults 1 through 100 were reserved for the exclusive use of the bank.

"Get out of my office this instant", Ragnok ordered, not bothering to even look up from what he was working on.

"It's Mr Malfoy: he says he has business involving Vault 37"

That got the Director's attention: "This had better not be some sort of trick. Show him up".

"Mr Malfoy, the Director will see you now. Please follow me".

Lucius followed the head teller up to the highest floor, just below the dome. Through the outer office, and into the office of the Director himself. Ragnok was wearing a black, three piece suit with gold pinstripes, befitting any international financier.

"For your sake, you had best not be wasting my time", the Director threatened.

"I need access to the contents of Vault 37. The pass phrase is 'Magic is might'".

"Griphook, report to the Director's office", Ragnok announced over one of those old fashioned switch boards that sat on the edge of his desk.

The senior bank VP appeared within minutes to receive his assignment. After a wait that seemed to take forever, VP Griphook placed a long, thin safe deposit box on the Director's desk that looked little different from a safe deposit box from any muggle bank, though this one lacked a key hole.

Lucius took the device the other Lucius gave him, and pressed the "Play" button. The gutteral hissing played again. There was a soft click as the box unlocked itself. Inside, were over a dozen vault keys. He noticed the Malfoy family crest.

He handed that key to the Director.

"I would like access to the accounts for this key to be restricted to myself and Mrs Narcissa Malfoy - my wife. I am rescinding any and all joint accounts that are attached to this key".

"Will the usual stipulation still apply?"

"Yes"

The account limited Narcissa to a maximum withdrawal of 100,000 galleons.

"Will there be anything else?", Ragnok asked.

"One more", Lucius replied, as he removed the key with the Lestrange family crest.

"The same arrangement for all accounts associated with this key".

"Anything else?"

Lucius looked on the keys with the crests of some of the wealthiest pure blood families. These keys represented a good percentage of all the gold in Gringott's, and it was potentially all his, as he had satisfied the security protocol for this vault and all its contents; there was nothing stopping him from totally emptying every one of those accounts. He looked physically pained as he closed the lid, locking it again before returning it to Griphook, and to the vault.

"You didn't take anything beyond your due? I am impressed, and may have underestimated Malfoy integrity. If there is anything I can do for you and your family, my door is always open", Ragnok told him.

The Director was well aware of Malfoy's past financial fuckery that funneled the bulk of his charitable "contributions" back into the Malfoy vaults through shell corporations and contracts always awarded to Malfoy-connected interests. He wasn't expecting this level of honesty, especially not when it involved the sums here.

 **0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF**

"Do we have a deal now?", the one Lucius asked the other, after they'd retired to the drawing room.

"You kept your word, and so shall I keep mine".

He turned: "Dobby! Get in here at once!", he ordered to thin air.

The Malfoy house elf/servant popped into view at once.

"Yyyyes, Mmmmaster... Mmmmaster call Dobby?"

"Bring me the wardstones and be quick about it"

"Rrrright away", as he popped out of view.

Dobby soon returned with a dark blue, velvet pouch which Malfoy roughly took from the elf's outstretched hands: "Leave us", he ordered. Dobby popped from sight.

He inspected the contents: six wardstones. He handed the pouch over.

"You understand what happens if you're caught with those?"

"Since I'm not human, they will cut my head off without bothering to hear my side. They just might do that anyway if they knew of my existence. I do not intend to get caught. If I am, if I fail my mission, the Dark Lord will prevail, and you will all be well and truly fucked".

"I want those back".

"I will do my best, but I can't make guarantees".

He turned as he was leaving: "One more thing: you could try being nicer to Dobby and all the other non-humans as well".

"House elves are little more than animals..."

"Mr Malfoy! Have you forgotten to whom you are speaking?!"

"I... didn't mean to give you offense. House elves are just smart enough to understand simple commands. They're not like you".

"How the hell would you know? Have you ever spoken to Dobby? Just conversed? Or is giving orders the extent of your conversations? It was obvious he was petrified when you called. Would an 'animal' who only understands simple commands be that afraid of what might happen should he fail you somehow? It looks like he understands the future consequences of present acts. You see that in just a few species, mine included and that was before I met my master".

"That's how it's always been".

"And that, right there, is what is wrong with your entire world. You're too damn close-minded, too resistant to change. And you wonder why there are such things as technomages who reject your resistance to change. Or why you have one dark lord wannabe after another. At least reconsider how you consider Dobby. A willing ally is always better than a reluctant servant".


	3. A Life Transformed

**A Life Transformed**

Lucius Lutra was watching the house on 4 Privet Drive. It was the third night he had done so. Waiting until all the lights were turned off. The previous nights, this had happened far too late. Tonight, it was looking like he was going to get lucky, as it was just past 12:00 as the last light flicked off. He knew the layout, having looked up the floor plan. He waited some more. By 1:00, still no light.

It was time to move, as he trotted across the street, and up to the Perimeter around the lot. Close enough to feel the ward, not close enough to contact it and trip an alarm. He took out the wardstones, and placed them just inside the Perimeter to make an opening. He decided to go in by the side yard, less chance of being seen, though he had in his favour that Little Whinging was a small town that rolled up the sidewalks after dark. He slipped through the opening he made with the wardstones. As he wasn't human, there were no magical alarms.

The lock on the front door looked to be an indoor type of lock, one easily opened even without magic. The Alohomora made quick work of it. He opened the door a crack, and used his superior otter hearing. He heard no activity as he slipped inside the house. The first order of business was the cupboard under the stairs, Potter's "bedroom". He carefully slid back the several bolts that locked the door from the outside, and slowly undid the dead bolt. The hinges creaked a bit, and Potter stirred, but was hit with the Unconsciousness Jinx before he knew what hit him.

Up the stairs. Dudley was snoring quite loudly, and so he used this sound as cover for slipping into Vernon's and Petunia's bedroom. Two more quick Unconsciousness Jinxes before finally jinxing Dudley. He went back to the stairs, pulled his arms tight to his body, legs and tail straight out, as he slid down the stairs.

The first order of business was accomplished after switching on the lights. There were lots of pictures on the mantle, in frames, yet not a single one included Harry. He fixed that with a Perma-transfiguration charm. This one, learned from his master. Unlike a regular transfiguration that was applied to the surface appearance, this one transfigured down to the subatomic level. The vast majority of magi knew nothing about this. Now family scenes were complete.

There wasn't much he could do about the cupboard, as the house wasn't really large enough for two kids. He could, however, transfigure the shabby excuses for furniture for nice furnishings. The deadbolts disappeared, as did the pet flap through which the Dursleys pushed meager meals while locking Potter inside, sometimes for days on end. The cupboard was still a bit too small, but a nice enough bedroom. He got a new wardrobe to replace Dudley's ill-fitting, worn out, cast-offs.

Now the hard work began, and he wondered if he could possibly complete it in time. It was no easy task to replace ten years' worth of memories. This only possible with magic supplemented with muggle tech. He retrieved the system from his bottomless back pack, a thick stack of CDs that were programmed with alternative memories, and the headsets.

Aunt Petunia, the older squib sister of Harry's wizarding mother, Lily Evans forgot her lifelong resentment over how magic and Hogwarts had deprived her of her closest friend and sister. Petunia Evans wrote in desperation to Headmaster Dumbledore, begging to be allowed to attend with Lily. Dumbledore even wrote back, which he didn't have to do, but no matter how diplomatically he worded that reply, the message was the same: Petunia wasn't wanted. Hogwarts ripped Lily from Petunia for three months when Lily entered as a Firstie. She wouldn't see her sister again until Christmas break. By the time Lily's first year was up, the two sisters had much less in common. They would drift farther apart, as Petunia couldn't share in Lily's experiences as a magician.

Vernon Dursley forgot about the fear he had over magic after learning he had married a squib and that his sister in law was a full-on magician. He forgot the angry resentment over having a magical child just dumped on his doorstep with nothing more than a terse letter of explanation. He clearly remembered how he had accepted this unexpected addition to the family: after all, this was his nephew, the only surviving member of the Potter family, and his wife's sister's one and only.

Dudley forgot about being the favoured son, the one who got all the birthday parties and Christmas presents. He forgot about how he tormented the "freak" with both parents' acceptance, if not encouragement. Harry was his brother.

Harry never remembered a time when he hadn't grown up with a loving and supportive family.

The dawn was becoming uncomfortably light as Lucius collected Malfoy's wardstones and disappeared from sight.

 _31 July, 1990_

Harry's wake-up call came in the usual manner: Dudley's thundering down the stairs above his head. He found this vaguely annoying, but that was Dudley for you.

"So, how does it feel, being a whole decade old?", Vernon greeted.

"I dunnow, the same as yesterday, I guess?", Harry replied.

"Instead of the usual presents, this year", his mother explained, "we thought we'd do something really special. We'd like to get your eyes fixed so you won't have to wear those glasses anymore. We'll go to London for a good meal, and have cake and ice cream at home afterwards. Later, you'll see the optometrist about getting your vision corrected".

"That would be great! Thanks!"

"Next year, you're off to Hogwarts and you'll want to look nice for all the girls".

"Awwwww... Mom".

"Now, now, Tunie, no need to embarrass the boy on his special day. There will be plenty of time for girls later", Vernon reprimanded.

"Yes, dear".

Harry's tenth was about to get a whole lot more interesting.

"What is wrong with that bloody bird?!", Vernon was complaining. There, at the kitchen window, an owl was banging against the glass, as though trying to actually break in. He'd never seen an owl do that before.

"I think...", Tunie began, "...it's a post owl".

"Why now? I thought that wasn't until they were eleven?", Vernon asked.

"Better let it in".

As soon as the window was opened, the owl flew in, perching on the back of a kitchen table chair. Petunia was right, he saw, as it was clutching something.

 _Harry Potter  
4 Privet Dr.  
The cupboard under the stairs  
Little Whinging_

No doubt about it now. Still, the owl wasn't making any move to leave after Vernon took delivery.

"Shoo! Go!", he called out.

Petunia called his attention to the small pouch attached to a leg: "It's waiting for a tip".

"Tip?"

"Usually, a knewt or two. I doubt it will know the difference between magical coin and muggle".

"Harry! Package for you!", Petunia called out the back door.

"For me? I wasn't expecting anything", he said as he took the package. Dudley came along to see for himself.

Harry unwrapped the package: it was another one of those digital audio players like the one Malfoy used at Gringott's.

"What does it say? Who it's from?"

"Says 'Happy Birthday from an Admirer'", Harry read the card.

"Who would...", Dudley began.

"You have to remember Harry's a celebrity among the Magical Community", Petunia was explaining, "our Harry is 'The Boy Who Lived'".

"It's nothing, really", Harry explained. "I didn't really do much of anything as I was what? One? I don't remember a thing about it".

"Let's see what your admirer gave you", Vernon encouraged.

Harry hit the "Play" button.

"Seems to be broken", Dudley said as it produced, not the expected music of a Walkman, but a guttural hissing.

"It's Parseltongue: the language of snakes and serpents. I can speak it, yannow".

They knew all about that. Back before their memories were adjusted, on one of those rare occasions, Harry had accompanied Dudley and his parents to the London Zoo. It was in the Reptile House where a large Python was curled up inside a cage with a glass window. Dudley had pounded on the glass, trying to get the snake to do something interesting. Harry had apologized for his brother's bad behaviour in Parseltongue.

This had not pleased Vernon, as he had warned Harry before leaving for the zoo not to do something "weird" to embarrass the family. When Vernon roughly pulled Harry away from the Python's cage, he unleashed a burst of accidental magic that freed every serpent from their cages as the glass fronts simply dematerialized.

In the new version of this memory, Vernon had gently admonished Harry to stop doing that where "normies" (he refused to use the term: muggle) could see.

 _Harry, I need you to listen to this message very carefully, and follow all my instructions to the letter. Tomorrow, at 2:00PM you are to meet at the Leaky Cauldron with Lucius Malfoy. You will recognize him as he will be wearing an all black suit, with a walking stick with a silver handle. He has very light hair, almost white, to match his complexion. You can trust him._

 _He will escort you to the wizarding bank: Gringott's in Diagon Alley. You are to withdraw 5,000 galleons from your educational trust vault which your parents, James and Lily, set up for you for Hogwarts. You will need the money to purchase the books Mr Malfoy will show you. You will also go to a shop called Borgin and Burkes where you will acquire other books on Occlumancy and mind control not available elsewhere in Diagon Alley, and you will also purchase a wand that will not reveal that you are performing underage magic. Once you have your wand, never let it out of your sight._

 _Borgin and Burkes is located in Knockturn Alley where all the shops dedicated to the Dark Arts do their business. It is also filled with dubious characters, so you will need to appear as though you always know what you are doing, show no fear, and act at all times like you belong there. This will keep you safe. You will need to go alone, as Mr Malfoy can't take the chance with his reputation by being seen anywhere near Knockturn Alley._

 _You have one year to study and practice. It may sound like a long time now, but you will be surprised at just how fast one year can pass. It is essential that you not neglect doing this to ready yourself for Hogwarts. I don't want to alarm you, but you will be in grave danger from the moment you set foot on Hogwarts' campus. As to how much you reveal to your parents, I leave that up to your judgment. Best wishes for your tenth B-day._

 _An anonymous admirer_

"This is all very mysterious", Vernon commented, "so what does it say?"

"Just that it's from an anonymous admirer, and he wants me to meet someone tomorrow at the Leaky Cauldron where he says he'll give me some birthday presents. He says he wants to buy me special books to get a head start at Hogwarts next year".

"Absolutely not!", Vernon said. "If _anything_ ever sounded like some perv trying to take advantage, or a kidnapping plot, then I _never_ heard it. This needs to be reported to the authorities..."

"How? You can't do that unless I admit to muggle cops that there is such a thing as Parseltongue and that I am fluent in a language they likely never heard of before. Mum can tell you all about how _that_ will go over with the Ministry of Magic".

"Harry's right, dear. It would be a clear violation of the secrecy statute, and likely land us in Azkaban".

"You can't even do magic!"

"I am still from a wizarding family and, as a squib, I am bound by wizarding law".

"Then report it to the magic cops, what were they called..."

"Aurors", Petunia reminded.

"OK, then, report it to the aurors. I assume that kidnapping and molesting kids is still illegal in your world?"

"Of course it is, but there's a difference between the worlds. Something like this that's suspicious in the muggle world happens all the time among wizards. Harry is quite famous, and widely admired. The only thing that surprises me is that we haven't received more of these offers. That someone would want to help with Harry's education isn't that difficult to understand".

"Then why doesn't this asshole _tell_ us who he is! If he came to me, and asked, I would give my permission".

"I can think of one very good reason: we're still muggles living in a muggle world. No magician would want to be outed, even if it was a simple mistake, to muggles. Perhaps he's in a political position where he can't be seen showing favoritism? Or doesn't want to upset a powerful patron for some reason? There are endless explanations that don't involve any dishonourable intent".

Harry was in a quandary: he needed to get to the Leaky Cauldron somehow, but didn't know how much to reveal. Vernon was right: it looked very suspicious and just like something a child predator would do. He could also see that Vernon would never agree to allow him to attend Hogwarts if he believed it to be dangerous. He had a whole year to put in for transfers to an overseas assignment. He could send him to Durmstrang or even Beaux Batons (Though it was technically an all-girls school, they did have some guys in attendance. The only requirement was that they would wear the same school uniform as the girls).

"Being that I am a 'celebrity' (finger quotes) it isn't surprising that someone from that community would want to help support my magical education. He wants me to have the kinds of books you can't get at any Barnes and Noble or any other muggle bookstore. Besides, I won't be going alone since Mother can come too. There is no law against a squib's visiting Diagon Alley".

"He is right about that. The only reason why we don't is because we can't cast the required spell to access the entrance. If it's done for us, that's a different matter. There are lots of squibs employed in the Wizarding World".

"I'd prefer it if we could both go", Vernon said. "I'll think about it".

 **0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF**

As Vernon pulled to the curb outside the Leaky Cauldron, he could feel the beginnings of the muggle repelling charms. The card that came with Harry's mysterious birthday gift included instructions on how to get here.

"Nasty neighborhood", he complained. "Are you sure about this?"

"We'll be OK", Petunia explained. "I've been here before, with Lily. This should take a couple of hours, at least. Come by to check on us".

Being that Petunia was a squib, the muggle repelling charms didn't affect her. There was hardly any notice as they entered through the front door. They were a few minutes early.

"I believe that's him", Harry pointed out a man at the bar.

"Mr Malfoy?", Harry asked.

"Ah Mr Potter: I was wondering if you'd be allowed to come".

"My mother, Petunia Dursley", Harry introduced.

"Mrs. Dursley, nice to meet you. You're probably not aware, but your son is well known".

"Reminding my husband of that was the only reason he agreed to allow a ten year old to meet some anonymous stranger. No parent in their right mind would ever allow any ordinary child to do that. So you are Harry's secret admirer?"

"Oh my no. I'm acting on his behalf, as he desires anonymity. I will be escorting Mr Potter to Diagon Alley as he is still underage and will require an escort. You are welcome to come along. Have you been to Diagon Alley?"

"Once, a long time ago, when my late sister, Lily Evans, was shopping for school supplies".

"My belated condolences for your loss. Losing James and Lily like that was a tragedy for us all".

"Thank you"

"Shall we?"

Entering Diagon Alley was the same as when she accompanied Lily and one of the professors from Hogwarts. Diagon Alley, itself, looked little different from that last visit.

"First, Gringott's" Lucius pointed out the wizarding bank building. "I'm afraid you will have to wait outside..."

"I know, I couldn't go inside that last time either", Petunia explained.

"Wands", the security guard requested as Lucius handed his over.

"I'm Harry Potter, but I don't have a wand", Harry explained, "I'll be needing galleons in order to purchase one".

"Quite understandable. Mr Malfoy, you will, of course, take responsibility for Mr Potter's conduct while here at Gringott's".

"Of course", he agreed.

They went to the head teller's desk. There were a few customers already waiting.

"I would like to withdraw 5,000 galleons from the Potter family trust vault", Harry explained, as he stepped up to the desk.

"Your vault key", the teller requested.

"You see, that's the problem. My parents died quite unexpectedly when I was very young and they never got the chance to give me one".

The teller took a blank sheet of paper and a stick pin from a desk drawer: "Then you will have to prick your finger and put three drops of blood here to verify your identification".

Harry gritted his teeth and stuck his finger. He squeezed out the three drops which disappeared along with the finger stick pain. After several seconds, writing began to appear. The teller took up the page to study it. He looked up, over the top of the paper.

"I must say, Mr Potter, you are full of surprises".

"How do you mean?", he asked.

"According to our records, you have lordships over the houses of Gaunt, which also makes you an heir of Salazar Slytherin, and the House of Potter. You are also possibly a Lord of the House of Black, as Sirius Black is in Azkaban, and ineligible for lordship".

"What does that mean?"

"The lord of a house is responsible for conducting family business. Managing finances is one part of it, assets and debts. You also acquire voting rights in the Wizengamot, and the prestige of being a lord. As Lord Gaunt, you would have one vote which you could exercise yourself, through a proxy, or nor at all should you so decide. It is unfortunate that the House of Gaunt squandered their fortune well over a century ago".

"A lordship could prove very useful", Lucius explained.

"When you say 'debts', I would have to pay them off? May I see an accounting of Gaunt family assets and debts?"

Lucius and Harry examined the accounts of Gaunt carefully. This was necessary as these goblins would put one over if given half a chance. Lucius knew that they would gladly grant Harry his lordship, then dun his accounts to settle age old debts. The only asset listed was a small plot of land outside Little Hangleton and the cottage that sat on it. There were no debts as all these had either been collected or discharged long before Harry was born.

"So if I become Lord Gaunt it doesn't cost me anything?"

"It doesn't, but why bother? It's meaningless".

"It might be convenient to be a Lord, and it doesn't look like there's any real responsibility. I think it would be best to wait a few years before taking on the responsibility for the Houses of Potter and Black".

"A wise decision".

"What do I need to do to claim lordship over Gaunt?"

The teller pulled out another form from his desk drawer: "Sign this declaration. If no one contests it, then it's done. Of course, it doesn't become official until you turn eleven, and that's only because you are the last of the Gaunt line".

"Now I need 5,000 galleons".

"We have a problem with that", the teller explained. "Harry can't access his trust account until he's actually been accepted into Hogwarts or some other school, or until he comes of age when he turns seventeen".

"Would it be possible to advance the money with repayment when he starts Hogwarts?", Lucius asked.

"It's your money, Mr Malfoy, and your decision".

"Then let's do that".

"What rate of interest?"

"None"

"Gringott's doesn't honour no interest loans. Gringott's policy".

"Then 0.001 percent".

"Fine", the teller said with disgust. Goblins considered it a "sin" to forego an opportunity to turn a profit. "Will there be anything else?"

"No, that covers everything".

They waited until the message runner brought Harry the House of Gaunt signet ring that announced his lordship and served as a wax seal for documents related to family business and the 5,000 galleons.

Next stop: Flourish and Blotts for a collection of texts any "Firstie" would need, and a pouch for concealing Harry's galleons.

"This is as far as we go", Lucius announced as they came to a narrow, winding alley. "Harry has to do this on his own".

The farther he went, the dirtier the alley became. He exited onto Knockturn Alley and spotted Borgin and Burkes about half way down the lane. He remembered to walk like he knew his business, and ignored the street hawkers who called out their dubious wares as he passed them by without a second glance.

The bell above the door tinkled as he entered. An old man, Caractacus Burke, looked up: "Lost your way, son?", he asked in a manner that indicated his presence wasn't wanted. He wasn't accustomed to seeing prospective Firsties doing their pre-school shopping in Knockturn Alley.

He held up his right hand: "I don't think so".

He gave Harry a strange look, as though hit by a bolt of fear: "Forgive me, Lord Gaunt. What can I do for you this fine day?"

Caractacus knew that that ring meant Harry was essentially the superior of the Dark Lord himself. He wondered if Harry, despite everything he knew about the Boy Who Lived, had gone over to the Dark Side. He had also heard the rumours that the Dark Lord was on the rise again, and he knew it best for him to not piss off both the Lord of the Ancient House of Gaunt and the Dark Lord.

"I'm looking for books on mind control".

"I have just the thing", he said as he led Harry past cases displaying cursed items, shrunken heads, skulls. There were cases displaying ingredients for dark potions and outright poisons. At the back of the store, a book case. Burke pulled two old volumes from the case: _The Art of Occlumancy_ and its companion _The Art of Legilimancy._

"Odd choices for a Firstie", Burke commented. "Hogwarts usually doesn't teach such advanced subjects until Fourth Year".

"I like being thorough with my lessons", Harry explained.

"In that case, can I interest you in a Potions text? These days, newer texts aren't what they used to be. The standard Hogwarts text is horrible; I doubt the writer ever actually brewed a potion. I don't know how kids these days even pass their OWLs".

"Then I'll take it too".

"Was there anything else?"

"Actually, there is. I'd like a wand".

"It'll cost you"

"How much?"

"7,000 galleons"

"You old pirate, you're shitting me? I'll give you 3,000 galleons and not a knewt more".

"6,000 galleons".

"Thirty five hundred".

"OK, just because I'm getting to like you: 4,500".

"Forty two fifty"

"Deal"

"Right this way", Caractacus led him to a back room few ever saw. It was the workshop of an even older man, the shop's maker of wands that were not Ministry approved. The kind of wand that would not betray an underage caster, despite the Tracer every underage magician wore until he came of age. The kind of wand used by the darkest of dark magi.

"New customer for one of your custom wands".

"You'll be wanting an unplottable wand, and one that doesn't keep records of spells cast".

"Exactly"

"First, close your eyes and concentrate. See if you can pick out the materials that are most compatible with you. A wand has to work with the wizard as the wizard works with his wand".

"This", he indicated the wood.

"Holly: an excellent choice. What about the core?"

"That material isn't here, but I believe it's in the shop itself".

"Let's have a look".

Harry pointed to a jar filled with what looked like snipped off black braids. He didn't know what it was.

"Thestral hair", the illegal wand-maker told him. "That's not used very much as it makes for powerful, but hard to control, wands".

"You said..."

"Yes, I know, and your choice must be the correct one. So you're ordering a holly wand with thestral hair core, the ability to cast undetectable spells, and no Priori Incantatum. Is that correct?"

"Don't forget: no broadcasting to the Ministry if I do underage magic".

"You will receive your wand by owl in three days".

Harry counted out the payment for his purchases. That pretty much wiped out Harry's 5,000 galleons, but did leave enough for some goodies at Honeyduke's.


	4. Preschool Schooling

**Preschool Schooling**

Since his wand wouldn't be ready for another three days, he took out his new books. He decided on starting with the two that didn't directly involve magic: _Hogwarts: A History_ by Bathilda Bagshot. As with many a muggle book, there was a blurb about the author on the back cover. It was an older volume, written by a highly respected scholar of the history of Magical Britain. She had numerous volumes to her credit, though she was getting on in years, and had apparently retired. Interestingly enough, she called Godric's Hollow her home. If it had not been for Voldemort, Harry, too, would have called the mixed magical/muggle village home as well. Since he would be attending Hogwarts soon, it was a good idea to learn a little something of one of the oldest continuously running magical schools in existence, as well as the premier magical learning institution in Great Britain.

The second was: _The Boy Who Lived: A True Story_ by one Gilderoy Lockhart. He was certain he'd never met the author, whose visage smiled back at him from the back cover. His golden hair looked as fake as his smarmy smile that reminded him of those televangelists he'd seen who promised "miracles" and "prosperity" in exchange for "love offerings". If he was going to be out and about with these people, it would help to know what they expected of him. Lockhart had a number of best sellers to his credit, all describing various adventures: all true stories, of course. There was even a brag about how he was a five time winner of _Witch Week's_ most charming smile award. This left Harry wondering what was wrong with those people. Harry wondered if this wasn't some schtick to sell books, or did Lockhart buy into his own bullshit?

 _The Subtle Art and Science of Potions_ was a cloth covered volume that had that old book smell. He saw that it had been published in 1900. It was also obviously an old Hogwarts text as the margins were filled with the original owner's class notes. There was no mention of dark potions that he could see. He wondered why Borgin and Burkes would have it in their collection, given the reputation of the shop. Still, Caractacus had recommended it, so he must have known what he was talking about.

 _The Boy Who Lived: A True Story_ got some things right. He was born on 31 July, 1980, that was true. His parents had been James and Lily Potter, and they had lived in Godric's Hollow. Voldemort had indeed murdered them during the early evening hours of the High Sabbat of Samhein in 1981, and the Dark Lord had disappeared without a trace after failing to kill the child with a Killing Curse, hence the "boy who lived" reference and the fame for being one of the first wizards to have taken a direct hit from the Avada Kadavra and lived to tell about it. It was true that Albus Dumbledore (current headmaster of Hogwarts) and Rubius Hagrid had rescued the boy.

After that, things went south in a big way. Every page had something WTF: no, he wasn't Dumbledore's secret apprentice. He had never been to Albania to study Old Magick with the dwarfs and elves Lockhart said lived deep in the forests of Eastern Europe. He wasn't a dragon slayer, nor was he a unicorn tamer. He wasn't a direct descendant of the Pendragon family (he doubted very much that the goblins at Gringott's would have overlooked a detail like that) of myth and legend, nor was he the reincarnation of Merlin himself. No, he had never met Lockhart who inserted himself into every one of these fanciful stories of Potter's derring-do. He could only hope that most folks who read this bullshit recognized it for what it was. The prospect of spending most of his time refuting it wasn't an attractive one.

One thing, however, did stand out: that Sirius Black - a name he heard mention of while at Gringott's - was his godfather. That was new on him, and he would have to look into this.

He learned some basic facts about Hogwarts: that the school was located in the Scottish hinterlands, just outside of Hogsmeade, the only pure wizarding town in Britain that had no muggle citizens. The closest muggle town was Dufftown, some 20 miles distant. The only means to get to and from Hogwarts was via the train station in Hogsmeade. Hogsmeade, being a 100% wizarding town, had no connections to muggle highways, so there was little chance any muggle would wander into town. Harry didn't like the sound of that: the isolation. He especially didn't like that First Year students would be denied the regular visits to Hogsmeade.

Other points of interest was that there was a loch nearby: Black Lake which was home to various magical beings: merpeople and grindylowes. The thick forest, the Forbidden Forest, was also home to magical beings as well. That might prove interesting.

Hogwarts was founded in 0990 by four magi: Godric Gryffindor, also the founder of Godric's Hollow, Rowena Ravenclaw, Helga Hufflepuff, and Salazar Slytherin to teach the Craft to up and coming magi. The founders could not agree on a unified policy concerning who could be admitted, what would be taught. They decided on a compromise: each would have their own "house" which they could run as they saw fit, and without interference from the others. That Slytherin was vehemently opposed to allowing those of mixed parentage to attend (supported just as vigorously by Gryffindor) Slytherin left the school completely. There was a legend that he also left a parting gift: a chamber of secrets.

This system of "houses" persisted to this very day. There were competitions between Houses: Quiddich matches for the Quiddich Cup, and also for the year's House Cup - won through demonstrations of academic excellence and good student behaviour. The professors, administrators, and staff could award and deduct points. This looked like a silly arrangement: the founders were long gone, and what purpose did house rivalries serve? Potter's muggle schools certainly weren't run like that, and rivalries over sports was bad enough.

Regardless of original intent, the current reputations of the Houses: Slytherins were noted for being especially susceptible to the Dark Arts, and had provided Voldemort with the lion's share of Death Eater followers during the first Wizarding War that led to the death of his parents. They also tended to be very ambitious, often rising to high positions in wizarding society. Gryffindores were noted for courage and chivalry. James and Lily had both been Gryffindores. The Auror Corps was mostly Gryffindores. Ravenclaws were noted for academic excellence. As Rowena Ravenclaw explained it in the house motto: "Wit beyond measure is Man's greatest treasure". Ravenclaw provided the scholars and professors. Hufflepuffs were noted for their openness, and acceptance. They tended to careers in politics.

As for the castle itself, there were muggle repelling charms, and a glamour charm that made the site look like crumbling ruins, as uninteresting in appearance as possible. For good measure, there were also signs warning of danger.

Over the next two days, Harry had his appointment with the optometrist for a prescription for soft contact lenses. It was believed he was too young for Lasic, as his eyes wouldn't be through changing over the next years.

The post owl showed up as promised with his wand. Caractacus also sent along a couple of freebies: an official auror's wand holster and a wand cleaning and polishing kit. The nice things about this wand holster was that it prevented anyone from taking the wand, either by means magical or physical. It also had a quick draw feature, and was guaranteed to not be fouled by either shirt sleeves, or robes. The wand polishing and cleaning kit was pretty much self-explanatory. Keeping the wood oiled would prevent cracking. The wand itself looked to be about 30cm in length, slim as a pencil, and with an egg-shaped handle.

"God damn!", Dudley exclaimed as the wand emitted a huge shower of red sparks as Harry gave it a flick. Most wands gave off a few red sparks to show they were working correctly. "Is that normal?"

"It's unusual", Tunie said. "Lily's didn't work so well, as I recall. Just be careful with it", she admonished.

"Don't worry, Maw, I won't shoot my eye out", Harry replied.

Now the real work could begin: practicing spells and charms. Lucius Malfoy dropped by every two, three months to see how he was progressing, and to keep him focused on his studies. He also provided pointers. After all, ten year old boys get distracted easily.

 **0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF**

Late one night, Lucius Lutra apparated straight into the Hall of Prophecies. This wasn't ordinary apparition, but tech-assisted. Anti-apparition wards were easily defeated, as the wizarding world avoided tech like a plague. Being that the Ministry of Magic wasn't expecting to be infiltrated by sapient animals, no alarms were triggered. There was no one here, as there usually wasn't the need.

The Hall of Prophecies stored the prophecies of Seers in the form of crystal spheres. There were rack upon rack filling the hall, all neatly indexed by date. If the prophecy had been fulfilled, that sphere turned black. Still active ones glowed green. This provided more than enough light to see.

It was common knowledge that it was a prophecy that sent Voldemort to kill the Potters. Knowing the date of Harry's birth, Lucius had somewhere to start. He found it: dated 22 June, 1980. It was high on a shelf, but that was an easy climb, even for a non-magical otter. The prophecy had two names attached to it: Harry Potter and Tom Riddle. That meant either party could recover this prophecy. If anyone else tried to take it, they would be driven mad. Lucius picked it up as that curse didn't work on him. He also noticed the index card bore the signature of "A. Dumbledore" as he was the one to hear the original prophecy. Lucius apparated from the Hall, no one being any the wiser.

 _North Devon: River Torridge_

Just north of Canal Bridge (so called since in the mid-1800s it was a literal canal, now transformed into a roadway bridge) an otter reclined in his holt claimed from a three centuries old oak that had fallen quite some time ago. He heard a hound baying not too far off. This would normally have been a cause for concern, but this was no ordinary otter holt. The dry leaves and grass transfigured into soft, satin cushions. The rough floor now covered with thick, blood red carpet. An Ever-Dry charm kept the rain out. Notice-me-not charms and perimeter wards would keep any critters - including humans - away.

Lucius went to investigate even though otter hunting was illegal for over ten years now, it still happened. Even in the "before times", he knew to keep away from a leg hold trap he'd discovered. It was set up to pull him under and drown him if he stepped in it. He'd seen it happen to one of his co-speciesists. If that dog belonged to an illegal otter hunter, well, he had a few choice curses in mind to make sure that hunter never made that mistake again. Any more leg hold traps would get a Mega-flagrante curse that would cause it to become red hot when its owner picked it up.

Lucius decided the hound was just a pet out for a romp. His attention turned to the Prophecy. He carried it to the river bank, placed it on a suitable rock so's it wouldn't roll away. He struck it with a rock, and it shattered with a "PAFF". The green mist rose, forming the face of a lid-twenties woman wearing glasses with lenses so thick they looked to gave been cut from the bottoms of bottles.

 _The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches  
Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies  
The Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not  
Either must die at the hands of the other, for neither can live while the other survives  
The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies_


	5. Off to Hogwarts, Pt I

**Off to Hogwarts, Pt I**

 _31 July, 1991_

After all the birthday presents opened, cake and ice cream finished:

"This came for you", Vernon said as he handed Harry a brown envelope.

"Is it..."

"See for yourself".

Harry tore open the envelope:

 _Dear Mr. Potter:_

 _It is my pleasure to inform you that you have been accepted to attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Ours is a special school for special youngsters such as yourself. Here, at Hogwarts, we pride ourselves in helping our students to reach their true potential._

 _Expect a personal visit from one of our staff, Rubius Hagrid, who will answer all your questions, and the questions your parents will ask. Your attendance will be up to you and your family. It is our sincere hope that you will be with us at the start of out next term on the first of September._

 _Respectfully,_

 _Albus P.W.B. Dumbledore_

"An owl didn't bring it?", Harry asked.

"I found it below the letter slot this morning".

"That's odd"

Harry was wondering what was going on. He turned 11, and there was no owl. His mother told him an owl brought Lily's acceptance letter. Last year, whenever he had any correspondence from his benefactor, that was also via owls. Wasn't that how it usually worked? Had they forgotten? Though he knew Petunia had sent a letter to Hogwarts via the normal post, not expecting the letter to actually arrive. He supposed magical correspondence could work the other way too.

"I suppose because ours is not a magical family, Hogwarts decided to send your letter in a more familiar way", Petunia theorized.

That did make sense, how would they know about all the owlposts from the unknown benefactor?

The next day, Vernon answered a knock at the door and there stood the biggest, hairiest man he'd ever seen. Except for the nose, and a mask around the eyes, and forehead his face was covered in thick hair that looked almost like wire. He was wearing a leather jacket, heavy boots, looking like someone from the rural Highlands.

"Rubius Hagrid", he introduced.

"Please come in, make yourself comfortable", Vernon invited.

Vernon's offered hand disappeared into Hagrid's ham sized hand shake.

"Tunie, Mr. Hagrid from Hogwarts"

"Pleased to meet you", she said.

"Can I get you anything? Beer?", Vernon offered.

"Thah be fine", Hagrid agreed.

"I'll have one myself. Tunie?"

"Nothing for me, dear", she replied.

Vernon poured two pints of bitters.

"Here you go"

"Whar's Harry", Hagrid asked.

"He went to the park with Dudley and some of his friends; he'll be along shortly".

"Yer prolly have lots uv questions", Hagrid started.

"Yes, what, exactly, is this school of yours?", Vernon asked.

"Well, itsa bordin skoo whar magicians laik yer son Harry lerns dair craff. How ter use a wan, cass spells, brew potions, and protek theyseffs frum black magic. We prepare'm fer careers wit ter Minstry uv Magic, laik bein a auror, or protekin muggles frum bein tayken vantage uv. Mebee Harry kin becum a p'fesser too. I know iss awl strange fer yez, but dere's lots yer Harry kin du. Dass upter him".

"Why should we send him away?"

"Iss nodadawl laik thah. Dere are our speshul feese daiz when awl ter parents are welcome, an Crizmus breaks, an spring breaks. Dere's summer vaycayshun whirr awl ter keeds cum home fer ter summer. Yer kin also write and receive owlposts. We awlso du thah fer ter families. Iss nor laik yers nebber see yer Harry ag'in.

"Yer hafta 'member thah Hogwarts needs ter be hid frum ter non-magical public. Dass why it's located in ter Highlans, way frum towns and roads. So's it needs ter be a bordin skoo fer dat reason".

"What else can this education do for Harry? How practical is it?"

"Yer mean in ter muggle sense? Ahm fraid none too praktikal, but Harry ain no muggle. He's a very speshul boy wiff a very speshul giff. Doan yer wants ter sees him make ter mose uvvit? How wud it be differen if'n his tallen was fer music, err affletiks, err scien and maff? It's juss a differen tallen, but a tallen whut needs nurturin"

"Of course we do, but there's a wider world out there, and we'd like Harry to be a part of that too".

"Ah kin unnerstands thah, an Ah ain sain Harry needs ter gib dat up. Lotsa keeds frum Hogwarts are frum mixed families. Sum eben goes awn an taiks corses ah universiddy. Nuttin sain he canna do thah".

"Din yer wanna ask innyting Mizuz Dursley?"

"My sister, Lily, went to Hogwarts, so I've heard all this already when it was time for her to leave".

"Dass rye... so sorry fer yer loss, and fer James".

"Thanks", Petunia said.

"Tell me, how much does this cost, and is it worth it?"

"It doan coss yer nuttin. Yer see, Harry's folks set up a truss fun fer Harry wen he wuzza wee bairn. His edukayshun bein awl payfer, an dat cludes tuition, boardin, un supplies. I kin tellyers a Hogwarts edukayshun shirley worf alot".

"What if we said 'No'?"

"Dass up ter you, an Harry doan hafta go iffin he doan wanter. Dere's oddur magical skoos, but I tink Hogwarts bein ter bess, why wouldncha?"

The front door opened.

"That you, Harry?"

"Just got back"

"You have a visitor".

Harry and Dudley entered: "Hi, I'm Harry... and my brother: Dudley"

"Hagrid", the big guy said. "It shirley is a pleasure meetin yer, Harry. I doan s'pose yer'd 'member the furss tyme we met yer whir such a wee bairn.

"Pleased to meet yer, too, Dudley".

"Ummmm... should I stay?", Dudley asked.

"I doan see why not. Dis concerns yertoo".

"I'd heard you were there... that night?", Harry said.

"Aye, dat I wuzz. It's unferchinit, the P'fesser an I goddare too lay, but it wuzz I whut pulled yer frum ter wreckage. It's nice, seein yer awl growed up and fine".

"So, are you here to take me to Diagon Alley?"

"I see yer know bouddat".

"I have a book: _Hogwarts: A History_ I got from my mum who got it from her sister".

"Aye, a fine volume, but kinda ouddadate. Yule go shoppin layder, I wuzz here to introduce myseffs an answer yer folks' questions".

"One thing: just how does sorting work?"

"Thuh sordin hat does thah. Yer puts in on yer haid an it say yer house".

"I don't get a choice?"

"Mibbee, yer kin make suggeshuns, but it desigh on whut's bess fer ye: whut house yer do bess in. Yer godda p'refernce?"

"I thought Gryffindor, because my parents..."

"Dats a big part uvvit, but not ter only 'siderashun".

"What if I'm not happy with its selection".

"Hat's nevver wrong, Harry, we ain had a resortin in a coupla - t'ree - gen'rayshuns. Doan worry bouddat: yer'll get ter house whut's rye ferya".

"So when do I get my supplies?"

"I gotcha down fer thuh 29th, yer'll getcher robes, books, a wan, a trunk, an yer tickets ter Hogwarts. Express'll leave on the furss. Yer folks'll be dere fer ter sordin and Furss Feas. Den yer'll ged awl seddled in an have yer furss classes necks day".

 _Hogwarts: Headmaster's Office_

The first sign that something was different was being notified that the first letter from Hogwarts had been accepted at the Dursleys. He had it sent, not by owl, because he knew how Vernon felt about magic. Had Harry gotten to the letter first? He expected that Vernon and/or Petunia would have kept that letter from Harry. He was prepared to drown them in a sea of letters; he expected that Hagrid would have to kidnap his young protege if he were to attend Hogwarts at all.

"Tell me, Hagrid, how did you make out at the Dursleys?"

"Juss fine, nevver met a nicer buncho folks".

"Is that so? They had no objections to your presence in their home?"

"None addawl".

"How was Harry?"

"He seemed juss fine... lookin ferwerd to Hogwarts, he wuz. Mibbe his parens had sum resivashuns, but thass unnerstanable, bein thah dey wuzz set awn uh regular edukayshun fer ter boy. I hadda tellum Hogwarts wuzza speshul skoo fer a speshul boy, dass awl".

"Are you _sure,_ Hagrid?", Minerva McGonagall asked, "I heard they were _beastly_ to the boy. I _never_ approved of leaving Harry with those people from the very beginning".

"Frum whaddi seen, it whir a gud 'cision. Fine folks, the Dursleys, none finer".

"You see, Minerva? You were worried over nothing", Dumbledore told her as he kept his surprise well concealed.

"It would seem I stand corrected", she agreed.

"That will be all", Dumbledore dismissed his Deputy Headmistress and Professor of Care of Magical Creatures.

Hagrid left wondering why the Headmaster would be asking questions like that in the first place, as though Dumbledore knew there would be trouble.

McGonagall, though relieved, wondered what had changed and when? How could she have been so misinformed, so _wrong_? She was relieved to learn that her concerns were misplaced for Harry's sake. Maybe Vernon had matured, maybe Petunia had developed the strength of character to lay down the law concerning her nephew/step son? It had long been a running contention between the Headmaster and Deputy Headmistress. She had appealed to Dumbledore on many occasions over the years for him to at least do something about the abusive environment, only to be blown off with the same excuse: Harry needed to live behind the blood wards his mother's self sacrifice had created, and could only be maintained by Harry's living with a blood relative. If pressured, the Dursleys might put Harry up for muggle adoption: why Dumbledore insisted his hands were tied.

As for Albus, he knew that unforeseen contingencies were always a part of any plan. Unlike a certain Dark Lord, he wasn't one to make a serious mistake based on incomplete information. Patience was its own reward.

 _4 Privet Drive_

"Try to keep me out", Lucius Malfoy said.

Harry took a deep breathe: "OK"

"Legilimens!", Lucius cast the spell with Harry's special wand.

He found himself in an odd space with what looked like webbing in the background. There were random flashes of white light. Suddenly something stringy was flying toward him and it wrapped itself around him. More were coming, flying at him. It felt like his magic was draining away. He pulled out of Harry's mind.

"What was that?", he asked.

"It's something I saw in an old movie... _Fantastic Journey, Incredible Voyage_... something like that. There were these guys in a submarine that was shrunk to microscopic size and injected into this other guy so they could save his life. That's what attacked them: antibodies. So that's where I got the idea".

"Interesting", Malfoy commented.

"Why so insistent I learn Occlumancy?"

"You'll be starting Hogwarts very soon, and when you're there, believe me, you _do not_ want Albus Dumbledore inside your head. He has fooled a lot of people for a lot of years now. He's very good at it - a true Master - so don't believe everything you hear about the Headmaster. Whatever he says, you can be sure there's some hidden agenda at work".

"Why would you say that?"

"Because, Harry, I used to be that man: takes one to know one - I'm sure you've heard that before. There's a lot of truth behind that saying. Take care of yourself".

"Thank you, Mr. Malfoy, for everything you've done".

"I'll accept your thanks on behalf of your Benefactor".

"Have you ever met him? Know who he is?"

"I have not, his agent contacts me from time to time. You will meet him when the time is right, I can pass along that assurance".

"Is it really that bad? Hogwarts?"

"All I can say is pay attention. You won't be completely alone: my son, Draco, starts school the same time you do. I can't overemphasize how critical it is that Dumbledore never learn of your extracurricular activities. Whatever House you join, develop a circle of friends you can trust. You never know when you'll need them. Stay as far from Dumbledore and his teacher's pets as you can. Most of them will be in his old House: Gryffindor. As far as Dumbledore is concerned, we never met. Understand?"

"I understand, and he won't be hearing about it from me".

 **0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF**

Early the next morning, Hagrid came to 4 Privet with what they would later learn was a "Knight Bus" - a magical means of transportation. There were already new students and their families on board. A girl with bushy brown hair and two front teeth that gave her the look of a chipmunk.

"I'm Hermione Granger", the chipmunk girl introduced herself.

"Harry. Harry Potter. My mum and dad: Vernon and Petunia", he introduced.

"Say, what happened to your famous glasses?", she asked.

"Contacts", he explained. "I can see better with 'em than I ever did with glasses, and I'm not so recognizable. Not sure I like that: being famous, and especially for something I didn't have anything to do with".

"I'm sure the novelty will wear off, once they get used to you".

"I hope you're right".

Hermione's parents were Dan and Nichole Granger; both were dentists with their own practice.

A rather nervous-looking, somewhat pudgy boy approached, with encouragement from an older lady, a wiry fifty-something.

Nnnn-eville Lllll-ongbottom", as he offered a hand.

"Pleasure's mine", Harry said.

Harry was wondering if this was just shyness, or did his "fame" have anything to do with it? He hoped it was the former.

Neville was accompanied by just his grandmother: Augusta Longbottom. She also worked for the Ministry. She said she was proud to have fought alongside James and Lily. She confirmed that they had both lost someone special during the last war, but didn't get into specifics.

There was a ginger-haired boy: "Ron Weasley. You just let me know if you need anything. I'm sure we'll be good friends".

"I'll be sure to do that", Harry was being polite here. He sensed this Ron was a bit of an asshole, or a fanboi. He didn't like either possibility. Ron was with his folks: Arthur and Molly Weasley, who seemed nice enough folks. Arthur had a position in the Ministry, something Ron pointed out right off.

The twins, Padma and Parvati Patil. were the last passengers to be picked up.

As the bus pulled up to the Leaky Cauldron, Hagrid gave his speech:

"Since it's a speshul 'cassion, awl ter parens are welcome ter hepps wit ter shoppin fer skoo s'plies. Y'all habs a specshul 'count with Gringott's ter pays fer yer s'plies, buddai warn yers: no frivilous shoppin. Thah doan mean yer canna get sweets at Honeyduke's, Yer can do thah affer yers gets yer s'plies. Stick t'geather in doan dawddle. Now if'n yers awl foller me..."

This time Vernon noticed it was different: that sense of unease just from looking at the place he'd felt last year wasn't there this time. The muggle repelling charms had been suspended.

Harry needed to remind himself to look surprised. The non-magical parents were duly surprised as Diagon Alley was revealed as Hagrid opened the gateway into the magical shopping district.

First stop: Madam Malkins for school robes. Everyone exchanged their muggle attire for the black, medieval styled scholar's robes, each with the Hogwarts coat of arms. This didn't take as long as feared, as Madam Malkins apparently had a special deal with the school. All that was required was some last minute fitting.

Then onto Flourish and Blotts for text books. Harry hoped he wouldn't be recognized here. What he had in his favour was that it had been a year, and he'd worn his glasses. He had no choice but to acquire copies of books he already had. He noticed how the Chipmunk Girl acted like a kid in a candy store. Hagrid had to remind her to watch her purchases as she looked to hit her limit before getting everything else she'd need. That meant sadly leaving behind lots of books.

They also acquired their trunks for clothing, books, and other necessities for boarding in the dorms. Harry slipped the proprietor a little something else he'd brought to make sure the trunk was equipped with a concealed compartment only he knew about, and which only he could open.

They also picked up cauldrons and a student Potions kit.

Next stop was Ollivander's for wands. These weren't custom jobs like the one he already had from Borgin and Burkes (and he was pretty certain Hagrid wasn't taking them to Knockturn Alley) but off the shelf wands.

Ollivander, himself, invited everyone to just pick one out, try it to see if they liked it. If red sparks appeared, then you had a compatible wand that would serve you well for your Hogwarts career. This is where Harry had difficulties, and was holding everyone up. None of the ones he tried ever produced any sparks. Finally, a cherry wood wand with a phoenix feather core produced a few feeble red sparks. He knew he'd better not use his preferred, special wand at Hogwarts under any but the most dire of circumstances.

Pets were another "must have", though both Neville and Ron had one already. Neville's was a toad, and Ron's a rat. Hermione took pity on a mixed cat/kneezle hybrid with a smashed-in looking face. She named him "Crookshanks" right then and there, rescuing the unwanted animal.

Harry stood before a magnificent snowy owl who eyed him with the most comprehensive look he'd ever seen from an animal.

"I'll take him", he declared. The owl, cage, and owl treats pretty much tapped him out.

"Hedwig", he named the owl.

Only because the proprietor of Honeydukes was willing to take payment in muggle currency, was Vernon able to get Harry some Chocolate Frogs and a bag of Bertie Botts Every Flavour Beans, Chocolate Cauldrons and Sugar Quills for Dudley.

Chocolate Frogs needed to be opened carefully, otherwise, they might hop away and escape. Harry saw that they came with trading cards. He got Uric the Oddball:

 _"Uric was a strange wizard who lived in ancient times. Among other things, he was famous for wearing a jellyfish as a hat. No one knows if he meant to become the weirdest wizard of the ages or if it just came naturally."_

"Yer kin leeves yer trunks onter bus. We'll putem onter E'spress fer yehs an yer kin picksem up affer yer sordin once we gets ter Hogwarts", Hagrid announced as they reboarded the bus to return to their own homes. "Thah way, yers woan be o'er burdened when yers gets ter Kings Cross".

Crookshanks and Hedwig went home with their new owners.

As soon as he got home, he let Hedwig out of his cage. He explored his new home, finally claiming the top of the 'fridge as his perch of choice. He could stand so still as to be taken as a statue.

There was a "crisis" when he got out. Harry thought it was the last he'd see of Hedwig. Wasn't that the usual fate with pet birds? He knew it was futile, considering putting up flyers asking if anyone had seen an escaped snowy owl.

About an hour and a half later, Hedwig returned with a mouse he'd caught. He brought it inside, to the dismay of Tunie, and deposited it at Harry's feet.

"Thank you, Hedwig", Harry told him.

The snowy owl cocked his head to one side, wondering why Vernon picked up the offering with a rag to drop it in a trash bin instead of eating it like he was supposed to.

"So tomorrow is the big day?", Vernon asked.

"Yeah", Harry sighed.

"What's wrong?", Petunia asked.

"It's just that I was so looking forward to this very day, and now that it's here..."

"Cold feet?"

"Yeah, I've never been so far away for so long... Three months till Christmas..."

"I'm sure you'll do just fine", Vernon reassured. "There will be the initial bout of homesickness, that's natural. I'm sure you'll be so busy with your studies, and making new friends in no time, those three months'll fly by and you'll be back with us".

"It was no different when Lily left for the first time. She was also getting cold feet, and was homesick for awhile, but she got used to it. We'll miss you too, but it'll be alright. After all, our little bird needs to spread his wings, learn to fly, and leave the nest. It's a big change, but we know you can do it".

"You go and make us proud", Vernon said.

"And don't forget to owl us", Tunie reminded.

The next day brought someone new, an older lady who wore her muggle attire uncomfortably. she didn't think to ring the doorbell.

"I'm Minerva McGonagall", she introduced herself, "I will be escorting you to King's Cross", she explained.

"I thought Hagrid...", Harry started.

"Professor Hagrid has duties that require his presence at Hogwarts", she explained. "I am the Deputy Headmistress and Transfigurations Professor, and Faculty Head of Gryffindor. It's nice to meet you Harry, and I'm looking forward to leading your House".

They noticed how Minerva's cat-like eyes were scanning everything and everyone.

"Are you ready, Harry?"

"As ready as I'll ever be Professor McGonagall. Just need to grab my overnight case", he said as he headed for the cupboard.

"Last minute essentials", he explained. He hoped Minerva wouldn't search it, and find the student wand which he'd pocketed when no one was looking, and his special wand. She didn't ask to see what was in there.

"Your ticket", as she handed over a railway ticket.

"Platform 9.75?", Harry asked.

"You'll see when we get there", McGonagall replied.

Everyone piled into Vernon's SUV, and it was one of the very few times Minerva rode in a muggle conveyance. Even though she said nothing, everything she saw at 4 Privet Drive was nothing she was expecting. Hagrid was right: the Dursleys seemed to be fine folk.


	6. Off to Hogwarts, Pt II

**Off to Hogwarts, Pt II**

"I don't see any Platform 9.75", Vernon said as he looked around. There were four brass placards with a "9" on a square brick support column. Another was "10"; in between, no columns, no signs for a Platform 9.75.

"You will have to trust me, and I can assure you no harm will come to you".

"What if anyone sees?", Harry asked. King's Cross was quite busy, lots of people milling around, waiting for trains to arrive, getting off trains that had arrived.

"We will be passing under Notice-me-not Charms. No one who isn't suppose to see, will see nothing", Minerva said as she led them towards the column with "10" marked on it.

As they approached, Harry saw what she meant. Suddenly, all around them, people in robes with kids were waiting. They were certain that they would have noticed so many people in such atypical attire.

"Da fuck", Dudley said as one of these families just walked through the brick column and disappeared from view.

"Take my hands, and follow me", Minerva said as she headed straight for the column. It took all the will power Dudley and Vernon could summon to not flinch. They didn't feel the expected bonk into the brick wall. They passed through as though it wasn't there.

King's Cross now looked as it probably did back in 1890. They could see above them the placard for Platform 9.75. On the tracks, a bright red steam engine chuffed softly, giving off streamers of steam. White smoke curling from the stack. The coal tender just behind the engine. The cars with fancy gold script: "Hogwarts Express". Porters were busy, loading trunks into a baggage car.

Wizarding families stood in knots, some in full dress robes, others in muggle attire. The two groups didn't seem to be mingling. Parents offering their kids last minute comforting and encouragement. Harry quickly spotted a familiar face: Lucius Malfoy with his wife, Narcissa, and a boy Harry's age who was in a black robe, looking like the spitting image of his father.

"Show 'em what you're made of", Vernon told him.

"Do well in school", Petunia reminded.

"Kick ass", Dudley said as he offered a hand.

"You got it, Big D", Harry agreed.

There were the obligatory goodbye hugs before Harry climbed the steps into the passenger car.

"All aboard!", a conductor called out, "all aboard".

The kids lined up at the forward passenger cars; their parents would ride in their own cars.

Last minute hugs, as Harry followed the line into the second car. Inside, there was a narrow walkway against a wall with rectangular windows. The other side contained compartments. Harry was wondering where to go, as it looked like these compartments were filling fast. He went back through that car and across the coupling into another car. This one, too, was filling fast. The next car back seemed less crowded. Now it was just a case of picking a compartment...

As he passed one: "You're Harry Potter, aren't you?", someone called out.

He was going to say something sarcastic, but decided not to: "And you're Draco Malfoy", he replied to the fair-haired boy who looked uncannily like his father.

"How did..."

"I'm not the only one whose fame precedes him. I saw you with your Mom and Dad on the platform".

"Everyone says I look just like Father, but I got Mother's eyes. Saved you a space".

"Harry! Harry!", that red head was pushing through the narrow corridor, not caring who - or how - he shoved out of his way. "Saved you a spot! Sit with us! ... Please?"

"Sorry, but I already accepted Draco's invite".

"Malfoy!", he spat out. "You don't want to sit with _him_... His old man is a Death Eater! Harry! He's one of the Dark Lord's men: the one who killed your Mum and Dad!"

"I don't know who the hell..."

"Ron. Ron Weasley..."

"Look Ron: I don't know that and neither do you. I've met them, have you? There's nothing wrong with the Malfoys. Even if what you're saying is true, since when do the sins of the father lay upon the shoulders of the son? Draco invited me first, and I accepted. If I go off with you, that would be just plain rude and ill-mannered".

"Fine!", Ron hissed at him through tight drawn lips. He stormed off the way he came.

"Fuck's a matter with him?", Harry asked as he slid closed the compartment door.

Draco introduced his companions: "Vincent Crabbe..."

"Harry", as he offered a hand.

"...Gregory Goyle".

"Pleased to meet you".

"The Weasleys may be a pure blood family, but they're little better than white trash", Draco explained. "Dirt poor - _Weasley_ poor - live out in the boonies; Arthur Weasley has no ambition whatsoever".

"I don't know about that, but I must say Ron doesn't know how to make a good first impression".

"Like Draco said, no class low class", Greg confirmed.

"You recognized my father?", Draco asked. "You know him? How?"

"We met before, seemed a nice enough guy. Definitely not the type Ron was describing".

"What house were you wanting to be sorted into?", Vincent asked.

"I dunnow... never gave it much thought... I suppose I'll be going to Gryffindor since that's where James and Lily went. You?"

"Slytherin, for sure", he replied confidently.

"You never know..."

"It _has_ to be Slytherin", Greg agreed. "Right, Draco?"

"I come from a long line of Slytherins. Dad'll disown me if I don't make Slytherin".

"You just _have_ to get into Slytherin!", Vincent was saying. "It's the only cool house on campus. Not like those Ravenclaw dorks, or Hufflepuff - the house of losers. Or Gryffindor..."

"Don't be insulting Potter's parents' house", Draco warned.

"Sorry, got carried away for a sec", Crabbe apologized. "If that hat puts me in Hufflepuff, I just might slit my wrists".

The train was pulling out of the station, as the couplings banged as they pulled tight, and the car jerked.

"Like I said, I'll take what the hat decides. Hagrid told me it seldom makes a mistake, and there haven't been any resortings for awhile. He must know what he's talking about, right?"

"You said you know Dad?", Draco asked.

"It's supposed to be a secret, but, yeah, he helped me out some, getting a head start with Hogwarts, since I was raised by a muggle and a squib".

"No shit? How was that like?"

"I dunnow... I suppose like for other kids. I went to school, played video games, fooled around with my brother Dudley... Except for all the weird things that would sometimes happen, like turning the teacher's hair blue".

"Video games?", Crabbe asked.

"You know, like Ms Pacman, Xaxxon, Pacman, Ghosts and Goblins, Q-Bert, Centipedes, Tron. Or my favourite: Tempest. We'd go to the arcade to play them... You don't have a clue what I'm talking about?"

"Never heard of anything like that. We played Exploding Snaps and Wizard Chess".

"Me neither", Goyle agreed. "I thought you'd be placed with a wizarding family?"

"Dumbledore figured it was for the best, as living with Petunia - Lily's sister - would keep the blood wards intact. They did right by me even if they're not magical".

"Muggle electronics don't work around magical fields", Draco reminded. "I've been to an arcade a few times, though it's not much fun when your magic always runs up record scores at Pinball.

"Video game consoles won't work in Malfoy Manor".

"Snacks", an older lady pushing a trolly through the car called out, "snacks".

Harry slid open the compartment door.

"I'll take a dozen Chocolate Frogs", Harry told her. "Anything for you guys?"

"Bertie Botts Every Flavour Beans", Vincent said.

Once they settled up, the trolley lady was on her way.

"You like Chocolate Frogs that much?", Greg asked.

"They're OK, but I'm more interested in the cards. It's kind of a hobby", Harry explained.

"Can I have 'em?"

"Help yourselves", Harry offered.

"Have that one... that one... oh here's a new one", he showed off the Egbert the Evil card.

"That one's pretty rare", Draco told him, "lucky dog".

"Have that one...", this card fell to the floor.

"Dumbledore!", Draco said as he ground the card beneath his heel. "Father said he is the absolute _worst_ thing that _ever_ happened to Hogwarts".

"Really? I've heard... rumours", Harry said.

"Like what?", Draco asked.

"He's not trustworthy".

"Don't forget the way he panders to mudbloods, and is determined to fill Hogwarts with foreigners. By the time he's through with it, there may not even _be_ a Hogwarts.

"He also plays favourites, always for Gryffindor"

There was a commotion outside, kids running back and forth. One slid open the compartment door.

"Have you seen a toad?"

"No, squirrel face..."

"That wasn't very nice, Vince", Harry said.

"Wait! Don't go! You're Hermione?", Harry called out as the girl was leaving.

"You remembered", as she turned back.

"What's this about a toad?"

"It's Neville's toad, it got away from him".

"That'd be Neville Longbottom?"

"Yes. Can you help?"

"I sure can", Harry said as he pulled his carry-on from the overhead storage bin. He pulled out his special wand.

"Accio Neville Longbottom's toad!", as he waved the wand.

The missing animal came flying down the hall, flew past Hermione to land in his lap.

"Here you go", as he handed the squirming toad over to Hermione.

 _"Howdidyoudothat?!"_ , she asked, eyes wide.

"Maybe it's true after all, he _is_ Dumbledore's secret apprentice", Crabbe said.

"I read ahead, and, well, it's not exactly a hard spell to cast", he explained as he put the wand away before anyone could get a good look at it.

"We haven't even set foot... I also read ahead, but you can't cast without a wand?"

"I used a stick and used that to practice the movements while memorizing the incantations. True, it didn't work without a proper wand. Though, sometimes, a spell would seem to work a little".

"No... shit", Crabbe and Goyle said in chorus.

"It's true, and I had some help as well. Get Neville's toad back and tell him to keep a firmer grip".

"Ummmm... Harry... See you around?", Hermione said.

"Sure thing... Our secret? I don't need any extra notoriety".

"Our secret", Hermione agreed.

 _Hogsmeade Station_

Everyone had changed into Hogwarts robes, and were milling around the platform. This was the only way in or out of town, excepting magical transportation such as the Floo Network or a Portkey.

"Fursties ober here! Fursties ober here!", Hagrid called out.

"Gather roun", he said as he began his speech. "If'n yers doan know, I'm P'fessuh Hagrid. I'll be your p'fessuh uv Care uv Magical Critters, Ahm alzo the Keepuh o ter Keys, and Games Keepuh. Ah'll be tayken awl Fursties ter thuh castle. Secon years un hyer'll be tayken ter carridges.

Fursties'll be goin by boat, so's tayke yer playces, an we kin gits unnerway".

These small boats seated no more than four. There was nothing, no sail, no motor, no oars, nothing to suggest any sort of propulsion. The boats would sail across a bay of the Black Lake to get to the castle. It was a more direct route than that of the carriages that had their traces, yet no horses. These moved under their own power.

The boats did likewise, and Harry found himself moving across the water at a pretty good clip. The boats lined up at the shore line, but wet feet were guaranteed as there was no dock.

Minerva McGonagall led the new students into the castle. Opposite the entrance, there were four hourglass-shaped indentations high on the wall. These were filled with what looked like colored glass beads: red, green, deep blue, and yellow. She explained that this was the house score keeper. Each house had their own color: red for Gryffindor, blue for Ravenclaw, green for Slytherin, and yellow for Hufflepuff. Points earned would cause that number of stones to rise, and points deducted would see the stones drop back into the lower compartments. Whoever had the most stones in the upper half at the end of the year would be awarded the House Cup for this year.

The Great Hall, where they would take their meals, was cavernous, with long dark tables, illumination from torches in sconces along the walls, bay windows, and hundreds of candles that floated overhead. The high ceiling above the rafters displayed a copy of the sky outside. House elves acted as ushers, directing the new arrivals to their seats. Under the bay windows was the elevated staff table.

Albus Dumbledore, in his midnight blue dress robes with gold trim strode to the podium - a polished brass owl with out stretched wings. Thick silver hair and a long flowing beard that reached to belt buckle level. The end bound with a gold band. Half moon glasses perched at the end of a crooked nose. Despite his obviously advanced age, he stood ramrod straight.

"On behalf of Hogwarts, I would like to extend a warm Hogwarts welcome to our new students and their families..."

There was polite applause.

"I always find this a bitter sweet time of year, as we bid adieu to our graduates as we welcome a new class of students. You will join a long tradition that goes all the way back to our Founders, and the first class of students to walk through those doors.

I have always considered it a special privilege, and a humbling experience, to guide you through these most important formative years. May the years ahead of you be filled with learning, achievement, friendship, and memories you will cherish for a life time. I have no doubt but that you will take your rightful places as a part of our tradition, and that you will do that tradition proudly".

More applause. He held up his hands.

"I would like to introduce you to our staff: Deputy Headmistress and Transfigurations Professor: Minerva McGonagall. Faculty head of House Gryffindor.

"Professor of Charms, and head of Ravenclaw: Filius Flitwick".

He didn't look as tall as some of the Firsties.

"Professor of Herbology, and head of Hufflepuff: Pomona Sprout.

"Professor of Potions and head of Slytherin: Severus Snape.

"We have a new addition to our staff this year, would you welcome our new Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor: Quirinus Quirrel".

Even though he didn't look the least bit Indian, he wore a turban of lavendar wound around his head in the Sikh style. As he stood to acknowledge the applause, Harry felt as though someone had poked his scar with a hot needle.

"Anything wrong?", Draco noticed.

"Nothing, just a twinge", Harry explained. He'd been getting them more frequently these days: the zig-zag scar that Voldemort left him as a parting gift the night he murdered his parents.

"Let the Sorting begin", Dumbledore announced.

The Sorting Hat, up till now just looking like a very old "Gandalf" hat sitting on a plain wood stool began to sing. This revealed that the wrinkles actually formed a face, with eyes, nose, and mouth.

 _Four houses, four houses  
Which is right for you?  
A house to stay, learn and play  
One house right for everyone where you can do it your own way  
Place me on your head, and I shall decide  
The very best place in which to reside_

"When I call your name", McGonagall announced, "come forward, have a seat, and put on the hat.

"Abbot, Hannah"

A small blonde stepped up, sat on the stool, and put on the hat. Since she was the first, she looked uncertain as to whether or not she was doing it right. After a few seconds of thought:

"Hufflepuff!"

A badge of the Hufflepuff yellow with a black badger appeared on her robe. She took her place at the Hufflepuff table.

Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle both got Slytherin.

"Ummmm... this one is a bit difficult", the Hat said as Hermione put it on. "I'm sensing loyalty and friendliness suitable for Hufflepuff, the intelligence and love of learning of a Ravenclaw, the drive and ambition of a Slytherin. You have also overcome being bullied at muggle school, and that's a Gryffindor trait... Ummmm...

"Gryffindor!"

Neville Longbottom was sorted into Gryffindor, as the Hat cited his background: the son of the heroic Aurors: Frank and Alice Longbottom.

No sooner had Draco put on the hat that it announced: "Slytherin", the fastest sorting yet.

"Potter, Harry", McGonagall called out. He stepped forward, knowing how this went. He put on the Hat.

"Ummmm...", it said and was silent for a good long while. "You would do well in Ravenclaw, Gryffindor, and Slytherin... Maybe Gryffindor as were your parents..."

Harry was expecting this.

"It has to be...", the Hat paused dramatically.

"Slytherin!"

"We got Potter!", the Slytherins called as they high-fived, cheered, and clapped while waving Harry over to their table under the green and silver.

"I OBJECT!", came a call from the back. "HARRY DOESN'T BELONG IN SLYTHERIN! HE'S A _GRYFFINDOR!_ "

"What is the _meaning_ of this?!", McGonagall objected. "Mister..."

"Weasley. Ron Weasley. His Mum and Dad..."

"That is not for you to say! You can't object to a sorting. Now sit down and don't disrupt us again!"

Ronald Weasley was sorted into Gryffindor, to Harry's relief. He was really beginning to dislike this guy.

"Let the Feast begin!", Dumbledore called out, as plates and platters of food appeared.

Vernon, Petunia, and Dudley made their way to the Slytherin table to join Harry. Lucius and Narcissa did the same for Draco.

"Draco Malfoy", Harry introduced. "And Draco's parents, Lucius and Narcissa".

There were the "pleased to meet you's" and exchanged handshakes all around.

"So Harry's already making friends?", Tunie asked.

"Yes, indeed", Draco agreed. "Also Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle".

"We met on the train", Harry explained.

"My Mum and Dad, and brother Dudley", Harry continued the introductions.

"I never met a muggle family before", Crabbe said.

"We're not so different", Dudley said.

"I thought you would be joining Gryffindor?", Tunie asked. She was well aware of Slytherin's unsavory reputation.

"So did I, but here I am: a snake, not a lion".

"Don't worry about it", Draco reassured, "most of what you hear about Slytherin is made-up nonsense and exaggerations. I promise to keep the black magic to a bare minimum", he chuckled at that little joke.

"We're proud to have your son and Draco in Slytherin", Lucius explained.

"We have a long history with Slytherin. It was, after all, our House", Narcissa said.

"When I heard 'boarding school', I was expecting the usual institutional slop", Vernon observed, "but that meal was worthy of any five star restaurant. If they feed you like this every day, Harry, you might be as wide as you are tall by Christmas".

"I won't let that happen", Harry promised.

Next was a tour of the Slytherin dorms and common room. That meant a trip to the dungeons. There was a narrow doorway to the left of the main staircase that led down to the dungeons. Along the wall, a small, inconspicuous carving of a snake marked the entrance. Their tour guide gave the password, and the wall opened to reveal a winding passage that went down and down.

The common room itself had rough hewn stone walls and ceiling. Tapestries depicting famous Slytherins decorated the walls. There were a series of leaded glass windows...

"We're... underwater?", Vernon asked.

"Indeed, the common room and dorms are under Black Lake".

Green light filtered through the bay windows, and additional light provided by green glow-globes that hung from the ceiling. Unlike everywhere else, no candles or torches.

"Looks like tech", Harry observed.

"Works like it too", he was told as he was shown a sliding switch on the wall near the entrance that controlled both the brightness and color, that could be varied between lake green and nearly white.

The furnishings were soft leather chairs and sofas, wing backed chairs with shiny brass studs, small tables for games or homework. The fireplace featured an intricately carved mantle with the portrait of a serpent. There were some animal skulls on the mantle below the serpent.

The girls' dorms were off to the left, and the boys' to the right. The boys' prefect took the guys, and the girls' the women. Boys couldn't enter the girls' dorms. The dorm itself was divided into separate bedrooms, each with two, four poster beds surrounded by privacy curtains. Each roomer had their own wardrobe and cupboard. Trunks could be stowed at the foot of the bed. One side had an outside view through leaded glass bay windows.

"This is very nice", Vernon observed.

"Our common room is one of two with an outside view. The other one is Ravenclaw".

"Their common room is under the lake too?"

"No, it's up in the West Tower".

 **0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF**

Once the families were back on the Express headed for London, it was time to unpack, and pick dorm rooms. Harry and Draco would share a room. Draco won a coin flip to take the bed closest to the window.

"Gather around, Firsties", the prefect announced. "First thing: if you'll notice the message board, you will find the current password posted there. Passwords automatically change every other week, so keep that in mind so you won't be locked out.

"Secondly, never tell anyone outside the House what the password is. We discourage bringing any outsiders into our House. There are no rules against anyone from one house to visit another, but if you want to visit anyone from a different house, do it in their common room, not ours.

"Never forget we're Slytherins, and we always have each others' back because we can't depend on anyone but ourselves. If you have a disagreement, bring it here and work it out. Never let outsiders see division between Slytherins.

"Slytherins never do favours; we collect debts. Never help anyone without asking what's in it for me. If you can't stay out of trouble, don't get caught. If you get caught, blame it on someone from some other House.

"We're lying, cheating, deceitful bastards: we're Slytherins AND DAMNED PROUD OF IT!"


	7. First Day of Class

**First Day of Class**

The day began with a speech before breakfast, as Dumbledore took to the podium.

"I have a couple of brief announcements. The third floor corridor on the east side of the castle is closed until further notice. Students and faculty alike are not to go there. I can not go into specifics, but the area is off limits.

"Secondly, the Forbidden Forest is named that for a very good reason. Students are to not go into the forest without adequate supervision. I know that the desire to explore is a powerful temptation, and that calling anything "forbidden" is often seen as an open invitation. I can not stress enough that these regulations are for your own safety. Your parents entrusted the school, and that means me, to see that you will return home safe and sound, so I am asking for your co-operation to make that happen. I can assure you that you will get to see the forest, but only when you are ready.

"As it will take awhile to get used to the castle, for the first week, there will be no detentions assigned, or points deducted, for any First Year students who're late to class. Do use all diligence about getting to your classes, and don't hesitate to ask for help from staff, house ghosts, or the portraits if you lose your way".

Another wonderful breakfast arrived, and he began to see Vernon's point. He was destined to put on a pound or two. It was during breakfast when it happened: an attempted invasion of his mind.

Albus Dumbledore grew even more concerned. The boy should not have even known what he was doing. Harry kicked out of his mind an accomplished Legilimens as fast as a master Occlumens would have. How had a mere lad learned Occlumancy, and who taught him? This was advanced magic that wasn't taught during the first two years.

 _Transfiguration_

Harry's first class at Hogwarts was Transfiguration. As he filed into the classroom, he noticed a silver tabby cat sitting on the teacher's desk. He couldn't resist giving the kitty a skritch behind the ears and under the chin. He took a seat on the left-hand side of the class, next to a walkway between rows of desks, with his house-mates. The Gryffindors occupied desks to his right.

They waited, but no Professor McGonagall. Kids began asking where the Professor was, whether they'd somehow gone to the wrong classroom, and some began acting up. All the while that cat just sat there, doing nothing.

"They'd dock us points and send us to detention for being late, but what about these professors?', Ron asked. "Bunch of hypocrites, if you ask me, demanding of us what they can't do themselves. Look at how much time that old besom has already made us waste!"

"Ron, calm down", Harry advised, "I'm sure the Professor will be here soon".

"Yeah?", Ron called back. "Maybe if the old cunt first gets a Geritol enema. That'd get her withered old ass in motion". He chuckled at his own wit.

"You sure do like to flap that big yap of yours. I bet you wouldn't say that to Professor McGonagall's face".

"Would too!"

"I think you just did. Isn't that right Professor Minerva McGonagall?"

The cat jumped behind the desk. Professor McGonagall, wearing her dark green tartan and stereotypical pointed witch's hat, stood up from behind the desk.

"Mr Weasley!", she said with a sour expression. "Twenty points from Gryffindor for disrespecting a Professor, and another twenty points for your filthy mouth. My office after class for detention, and I will write to your parents telling them what you just said".

"But..."

"Not another word, Mr Weasley!"

Ron sat there, fuming over how he'd been duped into losing Gryffindor 40 points the first day of the first class. The other Gryffindor students glared daggers his way.

"Five Galleons Gryffindor finishes the year with a negative point count", Draco whispered to Harry.

"You're on", he whispered back.

"Mr Potter: how did you know?"

"I wasn't hard to figure, Ma'am. A real cat in a room with a bunch of rowdy kids wouldn't sit there for a minute before he was at the door, scratching to get out. This is also Transfigurations, and how better to introduce the subject than by showing us a transfiguration?"

"Twenty points for Slytherin for astuteness and twenty points for defending the honour of a Professor", she called out. "Well done".

"Class: it has always been my opinion that Transfiguration should not be taught in your first year. I must stress that this is some of the most dangerous magic you will learn this year. You are encouraged to try what you learn on your own time. That is not the case with this class. You are not to attempt any transfiguration spells outside of this class.

"If you doubt this warning, then let me ask you this: what would happen if you transfigured, let's say, a stone into a steak and someone ate it?

"Yes, Ms Granger?", she called on the girl whose hand was the first up.

"They might digest it as usual, but would be in big trouble when it returned to its normal state", Hermione answered.

"Indeed they would, Ms Granger. In the past, that is how murders were committed, and why it is illegal to transfigure any inanimate object into any food item that may be accidentally ingested by the unsuspecting. This is why I must insist: any attempted transfigurations outside the classroom will result in suspension, and possibly expulsion. You have earned your House some of their points back: fifteen points for Gryffindor".

"Take a few and pass them back", as she handed each student in the front seats a pile of wooden, strike anywhere, matches.

"Today's lesson is to transfigure your match sticks into a common sewing needle. I don't expect that any of you will have any success, but by the end of the week, you should be able to accomplish this task".

Harry knew he could do this easily, but he acted as though he couldn't get it right. He made sure his initial spells did nothing. Once the head ignited, another time his matchstick broke. The rest of the class was having similar difficulties.

"You go on, I'll catch up", Harry called to his classmates.

"What's on your mind?", he asked of Hermione, who'd hung back.

"Why didn't you do the spell?", she asked. "If you learned enough to have essentially completed the first year?"

He took out his wand and transfigured his matchstick into a sewing needle without saying the incantation: "It's pretty easy for me now, but I don't need the extra notoriety. I'm supposed to be an inexperienced Firstie, and I'd like to keep it that way".

"But... why?"

"It's bad enough being the Boy Who Lived. I never had any desire to be anyone's icon. I don't like having fantastic bullshit said and written about me. I prefer to be just me. It didn't have anything to do with me, and I remember none of it. To be the 'Boy Who Lived' my mother had to die. It's not anything I like to be constantly reminded of".

"It's just that..."

"You like to always be at the top of the class?", Harry finished that thought.

"Exactly".

"I figured as much after seeing you in Flourish and Blotts. I can still excel without any unnecessary showboating. Besides, I have to live and work with everyone here, and how would it look, always rubbing everyone's noses in always showing I know more than they do? _You_ might take that into consideration yourself".

 _Astronomy_

The professor for this class was Aurora Sinistra. So far, Harry wasn't the least bit impressed, other than for the fact that he wouldn't have to work at it. It was all constellations and asterisms and the visible planets. He'd learned all this in muggle science classes. Every Wednesday night, the class would convene in the Astronomy Tower, weather permitting.

"Who can tell us about Blood Moons?"

She waited.

"How about you Mr. Potter? You haven't participated much".

That was true, as he found this class so boring that day dreaming was a welcome relief.

"Actually, Professor, they're not Blood Moons. They're total lunar eclipses that only look like blood due to Earth's atmosphere diffracting sunlight until only red light reaches the moon".

"While that's true so far as it goes, what of the magical implications?"

"I'm not sure I follow".

"I mean, as harbingers of, if not misfortune, then at least of major changes".

"I don't see how that's even possible. All eclipses occur on a regular schedule governed by the Saros Cycle. Even as far back as Babylon, that was known".

"I think I see your problem. Your thinking is too linear, and that comes from your muggle background. That would serve you well in that world. Did it not occur to you that the universe is a complete whole? That the Saros Cycle you mention is synchronized to what is happening all around it, and that it can still work to make these eclipses happen when they need to warn of misfortunes?"

"Well, no, actually it didn't".

"That's why Hogwarts exists, and why we don't send wizarding children to muggle schools".

"Yes, Professor".

"Class: Mr Potter has given us an important lesson. There is more to the world all around you than what's obvious on the surface. To really understand, you need to delve beneath the surface, to ask the wider questions".

"What bullshit", Harry thought to himself.

He was glad to get out of this without losing any points. Sinistra went on with her pointless lesson. He wondered why even bring the subject up, as it looked like it was more suitable for Divination.

 _Potions_

"It's only a question of whether Snape simply dislikes you or loathes you", Seamus Finnigan was explaining.

"It can't be that bad?", Harry asked.

"Maybe not for you since Snape is your head of house, but he _really_ doesn't like us Lions".

"I thought house rivalries would end with graduation? Especially for a professor"

"You'd think so", Seamus agreed, "but not in his case. Just be careful you don't piss him off, even though that's an impossibility. You will, probably sooner than later, and then watch out!"

This classroom was in the dungeons. The first thing everyone saw was this message scrawled on the blackboard:

 _You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making. As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses... I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even put a stopper in death — if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach._

This indicated a major attitude problem on the part of the Potions professor. After letting that sink in, Snape swept into the classroom from his adjoining offices, black robe fluttering, giving him a bat-like look: pallid skin, black eyes, and shoulder length, greasy hair. He glared at the Firsties before him over a beak-like nose.

"If you were to add powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood, what would you then have?" He drawled in that mannerism that emphasized every syllable.

He looked pleased with himself over the near panic he'd caused the Firsties. He waited and no hands went up.

"How about you, Mr Weasley?", he asked of Ron. "Do you know?"

"Ummmmm... Ahhhh..."

"Is that your final answer Mr Weasley? Ummmm ahhhh?

"Ms Granger, how about you? Do you know?"

"I'm sorry, Professor, I don't know", she apologized.

"You. Don't. Know. At least you can form a coherent thought and express it in a complete sentence. I'll give you at least that much".

She glared at Snape behind his back as she knew that question was too advanced for any beginner at Potions to know. That he would ask it, expecting an answer, made him a dick, if not a bully.

"Fortunately, we are blessed by the presence of a wizarding legend and celebrity. Mr. Pot-ter. Can _you_ tell us?"

"You would be making a potion called the Draught of the Living Death".

"And why is it called that?"

"It leaves you so unconscious that you could be taken for dead".

"I see at least someone has done his preparation. Why aren't the rest of you writing this down?"

There was a scramble for parchment, quills and ink pots.

"Now, Mr. Pot-ter, can you tell us the difference between wolfsbane and monkshood?"

"There is no difference, Professor".

"If I were to ask you to find a bezoar, where would you look?"

"A bezoar is a stone removed from the stomach of a goat that neutralizes poisons".

"So if your lab partner should drop to the floor foaming at the mouth you would go looking for a goat, Mr. Pot-ter? Really?", he sneered at him.

"If you will look in the top left drawer of your potions kit, you will find a bezoar. This is, as you should know, an antidote to most poisons. Make sure you have a bezoar available before starting any lab work. Either your life, or someone else's could depend on it".

Harry realized this was a trick, no-win question. If he had said his potions kit, he would be accused of being a smart alek.

"Today, as an introduction to potion brewing, you will be brewing the Cure for Boils potion. Nothing too demanding, but I do urge you to follow the instructions carefully.

Draco was Harry's lab partner, as, once again, the Slytherin and Gryffindor students has self segregated.

"What are you doing?", Draco asked. "The instructions say thinly slice the horned slugs".

"See here?", Harry showed him the 1900 text. "Says crushing them is better".

Harry used the flat of his Potions kit knife to crush a slug.

"Even if it isn't so gross", he said.

All the while, Professor Snape was looking in on how his students were doing.

"Unacceptable, Mr Thomas", he said as a wave of his wand emptied Dean Thomas' cauldron. "Can't you follow simple instructions? Start over".

Snape was riding the Gryffindor students hard. He paid little attention to the few Ravenclaw students present this class.

Seamus Finnigan's cauldron suddenly erupted like it was filled with thermite. Ron leaped aside, upsetting his own cauldron, splashing Neville with the hot, caustic contents. As the red liquid spread across the floor, students scattered or leaped onto their stools. Finnigan's cauldron was burning its way into the floor when Snape arrived to clean the messes.

"How could you botch such a simple assignment, Mr. Finnigan?"

"I didn't think..."

"You can stop right here: you didn't think.

"And you, Mr Weasley, your actions made it much worse. That will be thirty points from Gryffindor.

"Everyone: stop what you're doing right now. Would you be so kind, Mr. Pot-ter, to take Mr. Longbottom to the infirmary".

"Right away, Professor".

Neville's arm was red and covered with painful boils where the potion had splashed.

The healer's assistant took one look: "Let me guess, the Cure for Boils Potion?"

"That's what we were working on", Harry agreed. "Seamus' cauldron suddenly ignited for some reason".

"I don't know why he insists on that potion when there are just as many as simple that don't cause injuries like this. Probably put the porcupine quills in while the cauldron was still on the fire. That way, they release their magic much too quickly".

"I think he likes to see painful lab accidents", Harry said. "Can you do anything? That looks like a nasty burn".

"A properly brewed Cure for Boils will fix this in a trice", she said as she went to prepare a dose. She returned with the potion and a glass of water.

"Here you go".

The potion must have tasted pretty nasty, and Neville gulped down the glass of water. The boils began to shrink, the redness to fade.

"You'll be alright, but Madam Pomphrey will still want to have a look at this before she clears you for release".

When Harry returned, the class had been dismissed.

"Just collecting my things, Professor", Harry said as he went to pack up his potions kit and book bag.

"I dismissed the class early. I am pleased that you at least made an attempt to come to my class prepared... Unlike _some_ of my so-called students".

Harry knew he was referring to the Lions.

"Keep up the good work and you just might make it through my class".

"Yes, Professor"

Harry figured this was as close to a compliment as he'd get from Professor Snape. If he disliked teaching kids so much, then why was he a professor? Potions brewing had to be as much of a career possibility in the wizarding world as chemistry was to the muggle world. There had to be as much demand for liquids with the delicate power to ensnare the senses and bewitch the mind as there was for pot and X in the muggle world? That even sounded like something muggles would want for a Rave. Who wouldn't want a bottle of fame or glory? If anyone had ever made a bad career choice, it was Severus Snape.

In the Great Hall, the Gryffindors were not sitting with Ron. He was between the twins, Fred and George at the far end of the table and they were discussing something with their younger brother. The discussion looked to be pretty heated at times. Harry could only hope his older brothers could talk some sense into him.

"Yuck!", Pansy Parkinson said, "I think I just lost my appetite".

Ron was picking food off the platters and shoving it into his mouth. He didn't seem to care that some of it was getting onto his robe.

"Doesn't Weasley know what silverware is for?", Greg asked.

"Or napkins?", Mark Flint, the Quiddich Captain, added as Weasley wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his robe.

Ronald Weasley was living up to every stereotype of the country bumpkin. He had another problem: his dreams of coming to Hogwarts as a hot-shot were in the process of crashing and burning.

After lunch was a free period/study hall. Most of the students retired to Hogwarts extensive library, or their common rooms. Harry used this time to see the Game Keeper. Hagrid lived in the Game Keeper's cabin at the edge of the Forbidden Forest.

As soon as he used the knocker, there was loud barking.

"Fang! Shaddap, an go lie dow"

Then the door opened: "Harry! Whuh brung yer here?"

"I wanted to ask about James and Lily, Professor"

"I unnerstans, C'mon in and makes yerseffs ter home. How boud a cuppa herbal tea? I pickedem herbs myseffs. Dis bein a social call, yer doan haster call me P'fesser. Just plain 'Hagrid' or 'Rubius'll' due juss fyne".

"Sounds good to me"

"Whud yer wanna ask?", he said as he went to prepare two large cups of his special herbal tea.

"How were my folks while they were here?"

"James an his friens wurr real scamps, dey was. Hadem a group..."

"The Marauders", Harry added. "My step-mom told me about them".

"Dass rye. Dey wuz allays playin tricks on ter udder stoodunts, spec'ly Snape..."

"The Potions Professor?"

"Ter vurry sayme. Dint gedd long none too well. Dint gedd long with Lily neithers. She dint approve uv ter way dey treeted Severus, bein dat dey wuzz sweet hearts".

"Really? Lily and Snape? He could've been my father? What happened?"

"Ol' Sev got awl cottup wid black magic, un she dint 'proove. Tole him ter decie twixt ter dark arts un hers. He dint mayke ter rye cherce un dey broke up. He supose ter been 'cruited as a Deff Eater. It was durin dere lass year when Lily tuk a rye fancy ter James. Nevah spected dat, bud it's troo. Shertly after graduatin dey got married.

The Furss Wizardin War wuzz goin full bore, an course dey jerned wiff ter P'fessuh..."

"Dumbledore?"

"Aye Dumblederr an his Erder uv ter Phoenix, ter ress uv ter Marauders too. Dey bein Gryffinderrs, I s'pose it none too su'prizin dat. Mose folks bein too skeered ter 'pose ter Dark Lorr, but noddem. No, suh, noddem, dey step rye up un does dere part. Course I could'n due much, bein dat I loss my wan back when I wuz a stoodunt, though I try to does whuddi kin.

"Venchully dey had ter go inter hidin, cuz of dere opp'zishun, went ter Godric's Holler. Dats when dey wuzz betrayed. Dey say Sirius Black bein ter one whut dunnit. Killed a buncho muggles, an Pettigrew. Dey foun a finger an dass awl. Got sent ter Azkaban, whar he still lockedup. Wid-dow ter Fidelius, dey was sittin ducks fer ter Dark Lorr. Ter ress yer prolly know alreddy, how ter Dark Lorr tried to kill yer, an how his Killin Curse backfired. Ter P'fessuh un I goddere too lay. Ah'm sorry fer dat, bud we did save yer frum ter wreckage ter backfire caused. Dass when we setcher up wid ter Dursleys fer your protekshun".

"You said Sirius Black. Are you _certain_? He's my godfather".

"Awl I noes is whud we wuzz tole. He pose ter be ter betrayer, un no one especked dat. Dey wuzz quie close here at Hogwarts, un no one sispected him uv bein a Deff Eater err havin inny sich sym'thies, err bein jealous uv Lily, err none uv dat. T'ain no reason ferrit, bud dats whut ter Min'stry say. It wuzza open un shut cayse, un dey dint bother wiff a trial. I dunnow whuts ter tells yer".

"If he didn't have a trial, then they really don't know? That's not right!"

"It's p'culiar ter say ter leas. Doan seem rye ter me neithers. The Wizardin Whirl does t'ings differen".

"Didn't the Professor at least _try_ to get him a trial? If they were working together to defeat Voldemort..."

"Doan say dat nayme Harry"

"Why not? It's just a name, and he's gone, isn't he?"

"Ter P'fesser doan t'ink so. Innyways, he prolly did, bud yer has ter 'member ter tymes. Lotsa folks loss friens un fam'ly. Lotsa Deff Eaters bein rounded up, lotsa hard feelins. It took awl ter Min'stry had ter ged t'ings back ter normal. Trial prolly wunt do no gud inniways: dey'd convik him regardless, so's dey dint bother.

"Lotsa folks doan wanna hear his nayme, bein dat it's baid luck, an awl ter unplessen mem'ries 'sociated widdit".

"Thanks for taking the time to tell me about it".

"My door's allays open fer yer winnevers yer wanna talk".

"The herbal tea was excellent, best I've ever tasted".

Tankee fer sain so".

The last class of the day was Herbology with Professor Sprout. This class would meet in the green house. Up till now, Neville Longbottom had done everything but melt into his seat to avoid class participation. It was here, however, that he really began to shine. His extreme shyness entirely forgotten.

To Harry, it was too much like gardening, and he'd done enough of that, as his chores involved keeping Petunia's garden. He really didn't care if one plant did best when fertilized with unicorn dung, or another with dragon shit. Both stunk.

"You're really good at this", Harry complimented. "Me, I didn't inherit my mother's green thumb. I'd kill a bed of dandelions".

"It's always been a passion of mine", Neville explained. "Gran let me tend her garden, showed me everything she knew".

"I tried my best to avoid garden work. Yard work really sucks, as far as I'm concerned".

"It's not for everybody", Neville agreed. "I'd be glad to help you".

"That would be most appreciated".

That got Neville talking.

"How'd you land in Slytherin anyway? I expected you to make Gryffindor".

"I dunnow. Just happened. I heard that lots before, and I suppose it's unusual, being that James and Lily were both Lions".

"My parents too. And Gran. Did you know Lily was my godmother?"

"Then that would make us godbrothers. I didn't know".

"And Luna Lovegood, too. Lily was her godmother".

"I have a godbrother and godsister?"

"Yes, you do. Say, why don't you come up to Gryffindor Tower this weekend? We could get better acquainted... That is if your feet don't burn, standing on Gryffindor ground".

"I'd like that".


	8. A Gathering of Allies

**A Gathering of Allies**

The next day at breakfast saw the arrival of the owls, dropping correspondence to their intended recipients. A bright red envelope tied with a ribbon landed in front of Ron. This envelope was hopping and emitting thin curls of smoke.

"Uh-oh Ron got a Howler", Fred Weasley announced.

"You'd better open it", George told him.

As soon as he pulled the ribbon, the envelope and letter inside transformed into an angry origami mouth. The whole rest of the Great Hall heard it:

"Ronald! Billius! Weasley! Your mother and I are _severely_ disappointed in you. How _dare_ you talk the way you did, and to the Head Mistress, no less! How _dare_ you embarrass the family with your conduct! If you haven't already, you will go to Professor McGonagall and apologize immediately! We will follow up, to make sure you did. If you don't clean up your act, there will be no Christmas for you this year.

"DO WE HAVE AN UNDERSTANDING, YOUNG MAN!"

With that, the ribbon became a "tongue" that gave him a raspberry before tearing itself into small pieces of confetti.

Ron got up: "I just lost my appetite", he said as he slinked away.

"That's a first", Fred and George agreed.

The History of Magic was a horrible class, taught by a ghost named Binns whose main talent was somehow making the subject excruciatingly boring. The old professor had fallen asleep in an easy chair before dying. He didn't realize it, and got up to go to his class. He'd been there ever since, learning nothing new. Since ghosts couldn't write tests, everyone quickly learned that the class was another study hall, an opportunity to nap or day dream. Next was Arithmancy.

"Where the hell did we get sent?", Harry was complaining.

Draco was trying to get through a locked door.

"What're you kids doing here?", it was Filch, the care taker.

"Trying to find the Arithmancy classroom", Draco explained. "We were told it was here".

"It ain't, and you two can be glad it's still first week. Even still, I should put the both of you on report. The Headmaster ordered you kids to stay away".

They realized this was the forbidden third floor corridor.

"For your information, don't believe a word Peeves tells you. After the grace period, being late here means detention with me, and you don't want to be in detention with me".

"Isn't he one of the castle's ghosts?", Harry asked.

"No, he's a poltergeist and will take every opportunity to jack you up", Filch explained.

"What do you suppose is so important behind that door?", Draco asked.

"Don't know; don't care", Harry replied. "It's really none of our business".

"You aren't curious?"

"Of course I am, but not enough to pull a 'Ron'".

 **0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF**

Three days after Ron got that Howler, the twins struck back. The head of the Bloody Baron, the house ghost of Slytherin, poked his head up from a serving platter in front of Harry.

"Don't eat that, Harry", he advised, "all the food's been laced with a potion".

It was a sex change potion, and the other Slytherins were already changing.

"No favoritism", Harry told the Bloody Baron.

"What are you doing?", he asked as Harry took a bite.

"Having breakfast. No favoritism".

Harry, too, began to change.

"He knew and ate it anyway!", Ron called out. "What a moron!", he began to laugh along with the twins.

"ASSHOLES!", Horace Sedgewick called from the Ravenclaw table.

Cedric Diggory threw a biscuit at the twins from the Hufflepuff table. He began to lead a chorus of "Boo"-ing that all the Hufflepuffs, followed by the Ravenclaws, joined.

"Calm down!", Dumbledore called out from the staff table. "Who's responsible for this?", he asked as if he didn't know.

As everyone was on their way to class:

"Hey, Forge?", Fred asked.

"Yeah, Gred?", George replied.

"Looks like we've been counter pranked in record time".

"And another detention. Leave it to the scion of the Marauders and James Potter's son to come up with a perfect counter prank: never prank the Master..."

"Leave my father's name out of it", Harry protested.

"Huh?", Fred asked. "The Marauders were Hogwarts pranking _legends_. We look up to them!"

"You don't know the first thing about my father", Harry explained. "There was a war on, and Voldemort was recruiting Death Eaters here on campus. It's one thing if a Death Eater wannabe ends up with pink hair, or finds himself hanging upside down in the Great Hall one morning. If it helped them, and others, realize that being a Death Eater wasn't the latest cool thing to be then it was all for the good.

"In a country where 90% of the people were too afraid to even say his name, any show of defiance - however small - meant something. You two are just petty bullies..."

"Lighten up. it's all in good fun".

"It isn't 'good fun' to your victims. It's just plain nasty, and you have no excuse. Don't think I haven't heard about how you two have been using Firsties as your guinea pigs for your potions - potions you intend to sell for profit. You don't know the _first_ thing about my father and his friends. I'll thank you for not dishonouring his memory".

For once, the twin pranksters were left speechless.

Ron stepped up, slapping Harry: "Wizards duel. Midnight. Astronomy Tower: be there".

"You don't want to do that".

"Move along, don't be dawdling", McGonagall broke it up.

"You really gonna duel Weasley?", Draco asked.

"Hell no", Harry replied. "Let's say - hypothetically - that Filch somehow got wind that some Firstie Gryffindor's were going to be out after Lights Out, and I just happened to hear about that, it would be pretty foolish for me to be out too, wouldn't it?"

Draco knew what Harry meant.

The next day, a livid Ron confronted Harry.

"Not only did you chicken out, but you ratted us out to Filch. And to think I ever wanted you in Gryffindor! You're every bit as low as any snake in Slytherin!"

"Ron, in the first place, I never accepted your challenge to any duel. Secondly, Pansy overheard Filch, somehow he knew you would be out, and it would be pretty stupid of me to also be out. Getting caught was your doing, not mine".

"He didn't...", Hermione started.

"Mudbloods: always sticking up for each other...", Ron said.

"That's not fair!", she complained. "I also don't appreciate being called what you just called me".

"C'mon, best not being late to Transfiguration", Harry said as he turned to go.

"Densaugeo!", Ron fired off the curse at Harry's retreating back.

Harry wasn't the only one who'd learned how to cast early. After all, Ron's older brothers had already been through their first year. They'd taught him a few spells.

"What is going on here!", it was Professor McGonagall.

"Ron cursed Harry", Hermione began to explain, as Harry's front teeth were growing so long it made speech almost impossible.

"Ronald Weasley, is this true?", Minerva asked.

There was no denying it, as there was a hallway filled with witnesses.

"Would you be so kind as to see Mr. Potter to Madam Pomphrey's?", she asked of Hermione.

"Mr Weasley: you are to go directly to my office and stay there until after class. I don't know what's gotten into you, but we are going to get to the bottom of it".

Madam Pomphrey easily enough reversed the effect of the curse.

"I took the biggest hit", Harry explained, "but I think Hermione here caught a piece of it".

They all knew that was bullshit, but pretended otherwise, as Madam Pomphrey used the same counter spell to reduce Hermione's front teeth to a size she preferred, so she didn't look like a chipmunk.

"Thanks", she said as they were on the way to class.

"If your parents are dentists, why didn't they fix your teeth? Especially when they knew how you felt?"

"They always said I'd grow into them".

"I could tell you weren't happy with your appearance. No more 'squirrel face' from now on".

"You're not like the other Slytherins... I thought they didn't care about anyone but themselves?"

"You have a few misconceptions about us, and that silly rivalry between the Snakes and Lions".

In Transfiguration, no one had as yet produced a needle from a match stick. This left Harry with a dilemma: he knew he could do it, but Hermione prided herself on being the top of the class. He saw she almost had it. He decided that to not do it first would be patronizing.

"Professor McGonagall", Harry called out. "I did it!"

She went to see: "Well done, Mr Potter, fifteen points for Slytherin. Congratulations. Can you explain to the class what you did?"

"It was simply visualizing what I wanted to do. It would seem you also have to really want it to happen. There's more to casting than just saying the right words, and making the right wand moves. So that's what I did".

"Excellent explanation".

 _The Burrow_

The Burrow was the Weasley homestead outside Ottery St Catchpole. McGonagall flooed herself and Ron there.

"He cursed another student in the back. I don't know where he learned that curse, but using it on another student, and in the back, is most unacceptable behaviour. The Headmaster agrees: a week's suspension is warranted here. Maybe you can do for Ronald what we can't. I must warn the both of you: Ron's academic career at Hogwarts is hanging by a thread".

"Thank you for bringing it to our attention", Molly Weasley told the Deputy Headmistress.

"Up to your room, and you stay there until your father gets home", Molly threatened Ron. "Then you have a lot of explaining to do. I don't know what's gotten into you lately".

Arthur was none too pleased.

"Professor McGonagall tells us that you are flunking most of your courses, and that your continued stay at Hogwarts is in extreme jeopardy..."

"It's that damn..."

"Watch that language"

"...Harry Potter. Right from the very start, he threw my offer of friendship right back in my face, and has been out to get me in trouble ever since..."

"Harry didn't make you break the rules. Harry didn't make you insult Professor McGonagall behind her back..."

"But he..."

"No 'but's' Young Man: you can just as easily choose to have nothing to do with him if he bothers you that much. It's _your_ education at stake here, it's _your_ future at stake. And let's not forget that your behaviour reflects on the _whole_ family. Your life is your responsibility. It's not Potter's".

"Boy Who Lived... of course you'd side..."

"Ron! That has _nothing_ to do with it! Is that what this is all about? You're jealous? The only reason Potter got to be the Boy Who Lived is because his mother and father _died_. You should be grateful you still _have_ a family.

"Tomorrow, I don't want you over burdening him with chores. He needs to think about his conduct and his future".

"That's fine, and tomorrow I'm going through your room to remove everything that's not school related".

 **0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF**

That Saturday, Harry was able to meet Neville in Gryffindor's common room. Harry took care of introductions, seeing how shy Neville could be. He already knew Hermione, and had seen Parvati Patil on the bus (her twin sister, Padma, was in Ravenclaw) Seamus Finnigan, Lavender Brown, and, of course, the twins: Fred and George Weasley.

"Your mother, Lily, was godmother to both me and Luna Lovegood. It was a shame, losing them like that. If you didn't know, wizards are still talking about it, and your parents, with great respect... I guess you didn't know... I lost my Mum and Dad, Frank and Alice, too..."

"Voldemort killed them as well?"

"He might as well have. They were tortured into insanity, and are still in the psych ward at St Mungo's. We, Gran and I, visit them every weekend, and sometimes, on their good days, they recognize us and can converse. Other times, there's just that thousand mile stare and they don't say a word...

"That's who raised me: Gran. You met her".

"On the bus and later at the Feast", Harry recalled.

Harry didn't know which was worse: the finality of death, or this kind of existence.

"Voldemort has ruined a lot of lives, hasn't he?"

"Now you know why everyone so looks up to you: you banished the Dark Lord".

"I wish I could take credit for that, but, really, I didn't do anything. Mother deserves all the credit... Any way, who's Luna?"

"Second year Ravenclaw, blond, can't miss her as she dresses, well, let's say, not like your run of the mill Hogwarts student. Some give her a hard time over that, and that her father runs _The Quibbler_ , and has this obsession with fantastical creatures he thinks actually exist. His latest kick is something he calls a 'Crumble Horned Snorkak'".

"I'll have to look her up. You're the closest I have to magical relations, so that makes you family. Also, thanks for all the help with Herbology. Never could get into it, too much like doing chores, tending the garden".

"Think nothin' of it. Just glad to be of some use. I had my... doubts".

"You'll grow into it, after all, you're a Lion. The Potters and Longbottoms fought side-by-side ever since the fifteenth century. I'd be proud, having you standing by my side".

"You mean it?"

"Wouldn't've said it if I didn't".

It wasn't hard to identify Luna. She was shuffling along, with that whipped puppy look. She did wear some strange outfits: those "Spectrespecs" - cardboard framed glasses with a blue and red lens that came with a comic book. The large, radish earrings, colours that clashed, and a necklace made from butterbeer caps.

"Luna?", Harry called out. "Hey, Luna"

Hearing that, she cringed as this usually meant some prank was coming next.

"Yes?", she asked suspiciously.

"Hi, Harry Potter, and this is my friend Pansy Parkinson", as he offered a hand.

Luna eyed them with suspicion, why would these two Slytherins be acting so friendly?

"We won't bite, I promise", Pansy told her.

"Did you know we're related? My mother, Lily Potter, was your godmother", Harry explained.

"My Mum did mention a friend of hers, a Lily", Luna admitted, "never mentioned a last name".

"See? You're my godsister", Harry said. "And Neville Longbottom is my godbrother, yours too. How about it? Have dinner with us?"

"At the Slytherins' table?"

"Where else?"

"Say, why are you wearing two left shoes?", Pansy asked. "Mismatched too".

"It's the other girls: they take my things, and this time, all they left me was left shoes. It's alright, I always get everything back by Christmas break".

"No, it's not alright", Harry disagreed.

"I may have something that'll fit you", Pansy offered.

"That would be great. Just a loan until I get my stuff back".

"Be right back", Pansy said as she headed for the entrance to the dungeons.

"Your housemates are doing this?", Harry asked.

"Ever since last year. It started when I mentioned the black horses who pull the carriages".

"Those carriages are self propelled, like the boats".

"That's what everyone says, but it's not true. Black, winged horses with silver eyes who look really sick, nothing but skin and bones who don't look like they could pull anything pull the carriages... See? You don't believe me either..."

"I didn't say that. All I said was that I didn't see them myself. I've seen so much strange shit lately. Asking the pictures on the wall, and ghosts, how to get to class: how do you suppose that would go over at my old muggle school? If you say you saw them, well, there has to be an explanation".

Pansy returned with a pair of shoes that fit. The trio continued on their way.

"Hey, Loonie! Lose your way again?", one of the Ravenclaw girls called out.

"Luna is right where my godsister belongs. From now on, she'll be joining us", Harry called back.

"Before we were so rudely interrupted, Luna, Draco Malfoy...

"Vincent Crabbe...

"Greg Goyle...

"Millicent Bulstrode..."

The Slytherins were polite enough, but it was obvious they weren't used to dining with those from other Houses. Still, she was Harry's godsister.

Luna was beginning to believe. If this was some sort of elaborate prank, another practical joke at her expense, she didn't know how she would handle that. This was a big part of her problems: she was very trusting, willing to always believe the best of others. This left her vulnerable to malicious pranks.

Luna was so happy to finally have sincere friends, that she actually did a happy dance, skipping along on the way to meet up with the Slytherins in the Great Hall. (That Luna was a Ravenclaw, and offered to help her new friends certainly helped her being accepted.)

"The 'tard can't even walk normal", Marietta Edgecombe said.

Luna had been intercepted by three Ravenclaw girls, fourth years. They quickly blocked her way, and any escape.

"She's not normal, what else would you expect?", Cho Chang agreed. "Loonie is an absolute disgrace to Ravenclaw..."

"A disgrace to Hogwarts", Penelope Clearwater added.

"We're sick of you, and the lies you've been spreading all over the school about Ravenclaw..."

"From where I stand, looks like everything Luna's been saying about bullying in Ravenclaw rings pretty true", Harry was arriving with Draco, Vince, and Greg. They had their wands out and ready.

"Mind your own business! This is an internal Ravenclaw matter".

"You're bothering my godsister and that bothers me. When I'm bothered, House Slytherin is bothered. All of you had best back off; you're about to bite off way more than you can chew".

"I don't care if you are the Boy Who Lived. Someone needs to teach you Firsties your place. Chew on this: Eat Slugs!", Marietta fired off the curse.

"Protego!", Harry sent the curse right back at her.

Marietta suddenly wasn't looking so well. She brought up a slug that looked like a garden slug, but much bigger: at least four inches in length and two in diameter, along with slime.

"Don't. You. Even. Think. About. It", Harry threatened Cho Chang, his wand but inches from her face.

"What is going on here?", Professor Snape was arriving.

"Just trying to decide on what curse to use on Ms Chang here", Harry replied.

Snape's eyes went up at this unexpected bit of candor. "Put. It. Away", he said.

"Your Slytherins attacked us for no reason!", Penelope lied.

"No they didn't!", Luna defended.

"Yannow, for someone from the intellectual house you sure are stupid", Harry turned over his wand to Snape.

"See what spell I cast last", he requested.

"I heard there was a disturbance involving my Ravenclaws", Filius Flitwick was joining them.

"Priori Incantatum", Snape cast the spell.

"Shield charm", Snape confirmed.

"How did you learn to cast that charm?"

"I haven't taught it in my class", Flitwick said.

"It's a long story, Professor. We don't need to wonder what spell Marietta cast, do we?", Harry announced.

"Blarg!", was the best Marietta managed as she brought up yet another slug. She was on hands and knees, getting sicker by the minute.

"What is going on here?", Flitwick asked.

"They've been bullying my godsister. We ended in two minutes what you didn't in over a year".

"Mr Pot-ter!", Snape started.

"That's OK, he's upset, and well he should be. Is this true?"

"Yes, Professor", Luna admitted.

" _Why_ didn't you come to me? Say something?"

"I didn't want to bother you with my problems; I'm not a tattle tale".

"I can't do anything about something I know nothing about".

Flitwick conjured a bucket and cleaned up the mess.

"If you would, Professor Snape, see Marietta to the infirmary. I have some in-house business to take care of".

"Certainly, Professor... This way Ms Edgecombe".

"I'm sure you've noticed the delay in serving", Dumbledore announced from the podium. "Mr. Flitwick will explain"

"When I came to Hogwarts as a Firstie, I was proud to be sorted into Ravenclaw", he began. "Later, when I became a professor, I was proud to serve my House as faculty advisor. I never thought I would never have an occasion to say that I am deeply ashamed to have ever had anything to do with House Ravenclaw. Yes, I am ashamed.

"It has come to my attention that certain members of Ravenclaw think that one of their housemates isn't fit to be a Ravenclaw. They have been ganging up bullying that student. All of you know who you are, and if you're not on your way to return everything you have taken in one minute, I will see every last one of you expelled".

Six Ravenclaw girls headed for the door.

"Lisa Farrell, Michael Turpin: up here right now", Flitwick ordered.

"Turn in those Prefect badges: you are not fit to wear them"

"But..."

"Don't but me. You failed to do your duty and inform me of a problem with one of your own. If it was your intention to deny any knowledge of any bullying, rest assured that I know how the grapevine works. If you insist you knew nothing, then you must go through every day oblivious to what's going on around you. That incompetence is enough to disqualify you from being a prefect.

"The bullied student may come forward now, or hold your peace".

"I don't want to spend another _minute_ with these... people", Luna called out.

"Very well, then, Minerva?"

McGonagall brought out the stool and Sorting Hat.

Luna took the seat for a second time.

"A resorting?", the Hat announced, "we haven't had one since 1962...

"I still think Ravenclaw would be best for you, but not under these circumstances... Your trusting nature would go well with Hufflepuff...

 _(Slytherin, Slytherin, Slytherin...)_

"Your desire to solve your own problems without betraying your housemates is very Gryffindor...

 _(Slytherin, Slytherin, Slytherin...)_

"Slytherin, you say? I don't see you fitting there, though you do work hard... Ummmmm... Friendship is more important in this case, so it has to be...

...SLYTHERIN!"

Luna's blue and bronze eagle were exchanged for the green and silver serpent. Now she really did fit in. Congratulations offered all around.

The other houses were disappointed, losing the chance to add a Ravenclaw.

"You got your wish: Luna Lovegood is out of Ravenclaw", Flitwick announced. "If Luna wasn't good enough for you, then her points aren't good enough either. Transfer Luna Lovegood's points from Ravenclaw to Slytherin..."

"You can't do that!", Horace objected. "Those are _Ravenclaw's_ points..."

"I can, and I did".

"What about those of us who didn't know?"

"If you can sincerely tell me you didn't know about the bullying, then my apologies. If you like, I can offer you a resorting".

"I don't wanna be anything but a Ravenclaw!"

"Then work to win your house points to replace those you lost and burnish that bronze eagle your housemates tarnished. There's nothing more I can do".


	9. Flying Lesson, Quiddich and Detentions

**Flying Lesson, Quiddich and a Detention**

"How is it", Professor Snape asked, "that you could cast a Shield Charm?"

After breakfast, Harry had been ordered to see the Professor in his offices.

"I borrowed my mother's old texts, and practiced for a year before turning eleven", Harry explained. "I knew I wouldn't be as prepared for Hogwarts as those who came from full wizarding families would be. I memorized some simple spells and charms".

"The Dursleys kept them? Let you have them?"

"Why wouldn't they? Why would you ask?"

"Never mind… You are full of surprises, aren't you, Mr. Pot-ter", Snape drawled.

"Pleasant ones, I hope, Professor".

"Ummmm...", was all the answer he got.

"You will be in detention for three days for your conduct earlier this morning. You should have brought the matter of Ms. Lovegood to the attention of either myself, Professor Flitwick, or the Headmaster. The misbehaviour of students is our responsibility, not yours. Understood?"

"Yes, Professor"

"You will be reporting to Professor Hagrid".

"Yes, Professor".

"Be off with you, you don't want to be late to class".

Harry understood what Snape meant: he approved of how Harry had handled the situation with the Ravenclaw girls. "Detention" with Hagrid was no detention at all. He didn't lose Slytherin any house points either.

This day was the first in broom flying with Madam Hooch. Everyone gathered on the Quiddich pitch, each student standing in a line, with a broom at their feet.

"Class: your first lesson is to get your broom into your hands. Hold your hands out and command the broom, 'Up'"

It wasn't quite so easy, as sometimes the broom would leap up, whacking someone on the head. For others, their brooms would just sort of quiver on the ground.

"Try to visualize the controlled rise of the broom into your hands. It isn't going to know what to do until you know yourselves. Now, let's try again, and this time, visualize", the Professor explained.

Hermione got it right first, followed by Harry. Neville, who'd been the first to get whacked in the head was next. After about twenty minutes, all the students had mastered this first part of the first lesson.

"Now I want you to mount your brooms and rise up a few feet off the ground and come back down", Hooch explained. "Remember to visualize, and don't go too high. That comes later, once you get the feel of the broom".

Neville's broom shot up, nose first, as he fell off backwards, landing on his ass. The broom came back down, whacking his head again.

"Concentrate, Mr. Longbottom, concentrate", Hooch called out.

Pretty soon, everyone was controlling their ability to rise a few feet.

"For today's final lesson, I want you to kick off, take one lap around the pitch, and land. Don't go above the last tier of seats. You will be high enough to get hurt should you fall off, but nothing life threatening".

This lesson went well until Hermione decided to forget the professor's instructions. She had never flown before, at least not like this, with the wind whipping her hair, the breeze in her face. Not like being separated from the thrill of flight by a pressure bulkhead and a tiny oval window.

"Ms Granger!", Madam Hooch called out, but it was too late as Hermione was at least a thousand feet above the pitch.

Hermione looked all around, the view spectacular, much moreso than from the top of the West Tower, and the Ravenclaw common room. She could clearly see Hogsmeade beyond the campus grounds, the entirety of Black Lake, and the endless expanse of the Forbidden Forest. She could even get a glimpse of Dufftown on the horizon.

It was that landing part she didn't quite get right after realizing she would probably be in some serious trouble. Descending slowly, she picked up too much speed too fast and was out of control before she knew it. The pitch and the people on it, now scattering in every direction, were increasing in size at an alarming rate. Knowing she would soon crash, she did the only thing she could think of: close her eyes and scream.

The expected crash onto the green didn't happen. Once she opened her eyes, Harry was holding her broom with one hand while holding onto his own with his free hand. They dropped, rolled together, and came to a stop in a tangle of arms and legs.

"Thanks, Harry", she said as he helped her to her feet.

"What is the meaning of this?!", Madam Hooch was demanding as she ran forward.

"Sorry, Professor, I got..."

"You disobeyed your instructor. That will be twenty points from Gryffindor and you can be thankful points are _all_ you lost! I will see you receive a week's suspension from my class, and then, maybe, I decide if you continue. Is that clear?"

"Yes, Ma'am".

"You will also serve detention with...", Madam Hooch paused to think.

"How about Hagrid?", Harry offered.

"With Hagrid"

"Yes, Ma'am"

"Wow", was all Dean Thomas could say.

"I didn't know Hermione was such a hot dogger", Draco agreed.

"Little Miss Goody-goody got a suspension", Neville reveled, "I didn't think she had it in her".

Minerva had seen from her office window, and was just now joining them.

"A brilliant bit of flying, Mr. Potter", Hooch congratulated.

"It was nothing..."

"I disagree, have you considered trying out for the Quiddich team?". Minerva asked.

"I thought Firsties..."

"Every rule has its exceptions, Mr Potter", McGonagall said.

"I'd be on Slytherin's team..."

"I've been watching Quiddich matches here for far longer than you've been alive", McGonagall explained. "I admire talent even if it's not on Gryffindor's team. You have potential, and it would be a shame to see it go to waste".

"Yes, Professor"

 _The Burrow_

Ron was once again tending the family garden where they grew their own produce as an expense saving measure. He was chasing off garden gnomes, and had received a few bites for his trouble, and with the weeding and cultivation in preparation for the autumn harvest. Then it would be doing the laundry down by the creek, then up to his room to spend the rest of the day studying. True to her word, his mother had thoroughly scrubbed his room of every trace of anything fun.

Hogwarts wasn't working out like he'd planned and expected. He had failed to cultivate Potter's friendship, fucked up in class, lost Gryffindor House points. He was planning something else that he knew would make up for that, and it involved that third floor east corridor.

"Get back to work, stop dawdling!", Mollie ordered from the back porch. "If you're not done, no supper for you!", she threatened.

 _Hogwarts: Game Keeper's Cabin_

The first weekend of a hectic week finally came around. Hermione and Harry were reporting for their detentions.

"Come in, you two, have a cuppa herbal tea", Hagrid offered. "Just took off uh fresh pot"

His boar hound took notice of the arrivals.

"Fang!", Hagrid ordered before the hound could start barking.

"Doan mine him, he's laik thah wid everbody".

There was a roaring fire in the fireplace…

"Isn't it a bit stuffy?", Harry asked.

"Jus chasin 'way ter chill. Winner's be here soon".

"It didn't seem the least bit chilly", Hermione observed.

"Wahl, yer still a young'un. Dese ol bones diffinit'ly felt a wee bit. Ye'll see..."

They got the impression he wasn't being quite honest here: Hagrid wasn't that old. While it was true winters in the Highlands could be brutal and came on earlier than he was used to, there still wasn't a trace of it he'd noticed. The cabin was unreasonably hot.

"Lessee dem slips", Hagrid asked.

Hagrid signed off on their detentions before pouring oversized mugs of the herbal tea.

"Thah otter duit. If'n yer wan's be somewhere's else..."

"Thanks, this will get me to my first Quiddich practice", Harry said.

"T'ink nuttin uvvit. Thass not rye, whut dey dun to yer frien, Luna".

"I'll stick around for while", Hermione replied. "Excellent tea".

"Tankee fer sain so. Pickedem herbs meseffs. Ter foress, it provides ter dems whut noes it.

"Heard ye dun a bit o flyan".

"I've never really flown, you see, other than airliners, and it was thrilling… I got carried away".

"Ah kin unnerstans dah. Me? No broom'll hold me, so's Ah nivver dunnit… Would laik ter. Frum nowawn, lissen ter Madam Hooch an yer'll do juss fyne. I figger almos crashin is its own punishment, so'l if'n ye wants ter go..."

"I'll stick around", Hermione replied. "Yes, it was very scary. Thankfully Harry acted when he did".

"There was something I was wondering about?", Harry asked.

"Whut wood thah be?"

"Luna mentioned it, something about winged horses only she could see. You know anything that would account for that?"

"She say thah, did she?"

"Said these horses pulled the carriages".

"Aye. Ah'm mighty sorry ter heer thah. Yer see, dem's thestrals, an ye canna seeum less'in ye seen deff".

"Thestrals", Harry repeated. He knew a little something about thestrals from last year's visit to Knockturn Alley. "Luna did mention her mother died in a lab accident at their home, something about new spells or potions".

"Aye. Ah recon ah's ter onny one what derrmesticayded thestrals. Dere's boud a hunnerd livin in ter foress. Ter Mins'try say dey dang'rous, but dass not true addawl. No suh: taint a gent'ler critter innywhere's. Quy smart, dey is, an dead useful too. Iss juss thah dere's hawd feelins bouddem cuz when we sees em dey remin us uv dem's we loss. Dey canna hep it, canna heps bein whut dey is.

"Say, yer wanna heps me widdem?"

"Sure", Harry and Hermione agreed.

"Den foller me"

Hagrid led the way into the Forbidden Forest, to a storage shed well upwind of the cabin, and it quickly became apparent why that was. The stench of decay was readily apparent.

"Thestrals perfur carrion an blood, even though dey look like horses".

Hagrid took a bucket filled with beef, very pungent with decay, while Harry and Hermione took smaller buckets filled with blood. He'd set up feeding troughs farther into the woods.

"Juss fill em up an dey come as dey know when feedin tyme is. Juss stay still, doan spookem as dey shy critters".

Harry saw that Hagrid was right: a piece of the rotten beef separated itself from the larger mass to rise in a gentle arc before disappearing into thin air.

"See anything?', Harry whispered to Hermione.

"Nothing"

"Two ovvum", Hagrid announced softly.

Something disturbed the surface of the blood.

Hagrid stepped forward to pet one of them, looking like a mime to Harry.

"If you can't see them, can you touch them?", Harry asked.

"'Corse yer can, iff'n dey letcher dat is"

"Then, maybe..."

"Keep commin back, leddum get usedter yer, an, Ah can introduce yer… Yer laik critters?"

"I was thinking of becoming a veterinarian once, before I knew about magic. I'm still considering it as a career. Maybe help both kinds of animals: magical and non-magical alike".

"Vet… vet..."

"It's a muggle healer of animals".

"Aye, souns laik a noble perfession"

"Then it's no bother?", Hermione asked. "We can come even if it's not for detention?"

"Aw hellno. Ye's allays welcome. Ah kin allays use ter comp'ny".

"We were told we shouldn't go into the forest?", Hermione asked.

"Aye, tain nuttin ter be skeered uv, though dere sum critters less dan frienly, an ye needs ter be careful. Necks year, when ye take my class, ye'll see. Some, like acromantulas, are dang'rous, an odders laik centaurs doan laik people invadin dere territory. So's ye hafta respek dat. Dats why Dumblederr say thah at ter Welcum Feass.

"Ye needs ter be careful, but not unreasonably skeered, thass awl. Fer now, juss foller his 'structions, an daon go lessen ye wid me".

"Getting out of the library more often would do you some good", Harry said. "Now that you won't be hot doggin' in Hooch's class for the next week".

 **0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF**

Professor Hooch was explaining the basics of Quiddich to Harry. Each team had three Chasers whose role was to score goals by throwing Quaffles through the goal hoops, each goal being worth ten points. The Quaffle was a softball sized ball with distinctive dimples to differentiate it from the Bludger, a slightly smaller ball that was like a cannon ball. Orly one Chaser could enter the area around the goals.

The two beaters were tasked with keeping Bludgers away from the Chasers by batting them away with a short, wooden bat. They would also try to send the Bludger at the opposing team's Chasers. Beaters played defense, and could not score.

The Seeker was the only team member who could catch the Golden Snitch – a golf ball sized ball that flew on silver wings around the pitch at random, and very fast. There were two ways to end a match: a Seeker caught the Snitch, worth 150 points, that usually ended the match with a win for the team whose Seeker caught the Snitch. That team could still lose if the opposing team was more than 150 points ahead. The other way was if the captains of both teams agreed to end the match if the Snitch went uncaught.

The Keeper defended the goals to keep Quaffles from passing through the hoops. There were no periods, no half time, once the match started with the release of all three balls.

Harry wasn't really built like a Beater who would need the strength to keep batting Bludgers for however long a match lasted. He figured Keeper was pretty boring, as he'd be spending the match just hovering around the goals. Chaser looked like it would appeal to him more. Professor McGonagall, long time Quiddich fan who had a feel for these things suggested Seeker. If Harry was accepted onto the Slytherin team as Seeker, he would be the first First Year Seeker since 1892. He should see if the captain of the Slytherin team, Mark Flint, would be agreeable to let him try out for the position. Tryouts would begin next week, with the first match-up two weeks after that.

"Isn't it a little like betraying your House, Professor McGonagall?"

"I confess I would like you on Gryffindor's team, but I also like to see challenging and well played matches regardless of which House scores more points. Also don't forget why we host Quiddich: it's good for forming character whether you continue playing after you leave Hogwarts or not. It's a cliché among the muggles, but cliches become cliches because there's a lot of truth behind them. Play clean, play well, and I will make sure Gryffindor makes sure Slytherin earns that Quiddich Cup, Mr. Potter. The same goes for the other Houses, and may the best House win".

"Thank you, Professor".

 **0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF**

Harry was in the Slytherin common room, composing a letter home:

 _Mom, Dad, Dudley:_

 _If this looks hard to read, forgive me: I wrote it with a bird feather. That's right: quills and ink pots, like centuries ago. No hint of any tech in sight: candles and torches for light, no radio or television, no electricity. It really is a trip back to the Middle Ages._

 _It has been an interesting first week, no time for the dreaded homesickness. Hope everything's well with you. The classes are OK, except for Astronomy. It's all a repeat of everything I learned in 4th grade, and it doesn't look like it'll improve. Nothing about the latest findings from the Hubble._

 _Arithmancy is fun, but hardly useful. I did better than Snape expected in Potions. Everyone hates Snape, but I'm beginning to wonder if that's not just because he's a more demanding professor whose class isn't an easy 'A' where you can just skate to get by. His style is abrasive, like he really doesn't like teaching a bunch of kids. It's almost like he expects you to come to class a Potions Master. If that were the case, we wouldn't really need him, would we?_

 _Had a bit of excitement during our flying lessons. Hermione Granger got carried away and almost had a very bad crash. I helped her down without breaking anything, and that may win me a position on the Quiddich team. I'd like it if there were some way you could come to see a match or two. Will have to look into that. If I make the team, you can assure father that I won't be coming home for Christmas as wide as I am tall. :-D :-P._

 _Oh, and thestrals: did you know the school carriages are pulled by them? Neither does anyone else other than Luna: you can't see them unless you've seen death. Unforch, Luna's Mum was killed in a lab accident when she was 9, and she was there to see it. No one else believed her, and gave her all kinds of grief because of that. She's now in Slytherin after deciding to get away from the Ravenclaws who were tormenting her._

 _So far, haven't had a word with Headmaster Dumbledore. He just sits at the staff table, overlooking the students like an imperial overlord or something._

 _There's that Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, Quirrel. Strange bird: doesn't reach much, just brags about his alleged exploits while taking a year long sabbatical. He's hard to understand, what with all the stuttering, and seems so nervous, like he's jacked up on Meth, ready to bounce off the walls. Have no idea what that's about, but I really don't like this guy for some reason._

 _Anyway, that's all for now._

 _Love,_

 _Harry_

"Whatcha workin' on?", Crabbe asked.

"Just finishing off a letter home, and just about to see Hedwig at the owlry".

"That reminds me, I should get off a letter of my own".

"YUCK!", Harry thought, "someone ought to do something about this". He made a mental note to bring it to Hagrid's attention. And to find better accommodations for Hedwig.

Hogwarts' owlry was a mess: bird shit everywhere, half eaten food rotting on the floor. The school owls were in individual cages. At least Hedwig didn't have to put up with that indignity. He was perched in the rafters, and glided on silent wings to Harry's shoulder as soon as arrived.

"Got a job for you", Harry said as he offered a treat.

Harry attached the letter to a leg: "Deliver this to home, you know, 4 Privet Drive"

With a hoot of understanding, Hedwig flew out the window, and headed south.


	10. A Visit to the Forbidden Forest

**A Visit to the Forbidden Forest**

 _Slytherin Common Room_

 _Dear Luna,_

 _I was shocked to hear you left Ravenclaw for Slytherin. We Lovegoods come from a long line of Ravenclaws. As you know, Ravenclaw was your mother's House – and mine. I wish you would have said something sooner. Perhaps, we could have worked something out with Mr. Flitwick. That has always been a problem with you, your belief you always have to do everything for yourself. Luna, no one can live like that, and there is no shame in admitting you sometimes need help from others. I confess: I am disappointed, not in you, but in the treatment you received from your former housemates. I had hoped your Hogwarts experience would have gotten off to a better start._

 _I am disappointed, but not wholly surprised. There has always been a "dark side" to Ravenclaw. Our House has the reputation as the intellectual House, and for producing scholars. It also produces more than its fair share of white collar criminals, embezzlers, forgers, dishonest investment scammers: things like that. I'm sorry you had to experience that side of Ravenclaw._

 _I am pleased Harry and his friends stuck up for you. They sound like good friends, and hopefully, you can introduce us soon. You are setting a new precedent as you are the first Lovegood in Slytherin. I'm sure you will do the House of Snakes proud._

 _Love._

 _Your Dad_

"Letter from home?", Millicent asked.

"Yeah. He was surprised, my joining Slytherin. We Lovegoods never had a Snake before".

"You're in a House where we take care of our own".

"That's a first for me", Luna agreed.

 **0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF**

Ronald Weasley was back from suspension. He looked a bit subdued, and Harry could hope he learned a lesson.

"His table manners certainly haven't improved any", Pansy observed.

"Best not to look", Harry agreed. "I hope for his sake that's the only thing he failed to learn during his absence".

"Why would you say that?", Draco asked.

"So another Chickendor loser washes out? Good riddance to low class trash", Goyle said.

"I get no pleasure from another's misfortunes and neither should you. Weasley has a talent for rubbing everyone the wrong way, I can't deny that, and he may very well fail here at Hogwarts. If he does, so be it, but I'm not gonna enjoy it".

"You're too kind", Draco said.

As Harry was leaving the Great Hall, he received an excuse notice: the Headmaster wanted to see him. Harry wondered what he had done as McGonagall led him to the gargoyle that guarded the continuously rotating spiral staircase up to the Headmaster's office complex. She let the gryphon door knocker drop with a soft tap.

"You aren't coming, Professor?"

"No, Harry, I have a Transfiguration class to tend to".

"Do come in", Dumbledore invited.

She motioned Harry inside. The lower office was filled with all sorts of gewgaws that sat on small tables. There was not a bare spot on any shelf he could see. A large, scarlet bird rested on a perch. At first, he thought it was a scarlet macaw, but a second look showed it was no sort of parrot. Harry climbed the short staircase to the alcove where Dumbledore sat behind his desk.

"Do come up, have a seat", the Headmaster invited. "Lemon drop?", Dumbledore offered.

"No thank you", Harry replied politely as possible. He'd heard the rumours that visitors got more than lemon drops from the Professor's guest tray.

"Love 'em myself", Dumbledore said as he took one.

"Have no fear, you aren't in any sort of trouble", Dumbledore explained. "I meet all my First Years. So, Harry, how were your first weeks as a part of the Hogwarts family?"

"So far, it's been good".

"Your professors have said good things about your work. I take it there's been no homesickness?"

"No, Professor, not as much as I was expecting. You know, I haven't been away for so long before. I didn't know what to expect. So far, Hogwarts has been keeping me too busy to worry about homesickness".

"For some of our First Years, it does take some getting used to. How is it that you wound up in Slytherin? I thought you would be following your parents into Gryffindor?"

"I don't know… Maybe because Draco was the first one to invite me to sit with him on the Express? He and his friends certainly did talk up Slytherin, and they were quite friendly.

"I never really thought much about Houses and where I wanted to go, as if it made any difference. This whole business of Houses seems pretty silly anyway".

"How so?"

"The Founders are long gone, and whatever differences they had way back then should've been laid to rest with them. The inter-school rivalries at my old school were bad enough, all the nonsense that went with sports rivalries. You even had parents encouraging bad behaviour for their alma maters. It just seems an unnecessary occasion for bad feelings and bullying. What's so horrible about having friends from other Houses?"

"I assume you're referring to Ms. Lovegood?"

"That, and more. Why should I be expected to hate everyone from Gryffindor just because of the luck of the draw of that hat? I like Hermione and Neville as much as Draco, Vince, Greg and Pansy. What difference will it make what House you were in twenty years from now? What good does it do to have your resume land on the desk of a Badger who remembers how your House considered Hufflepuff the losers' House?"

"What can I say? It's a Hogwarts tradition. You shouldn't hold House membership against anyone after graduation. No one said you can't have friends from other Houses: there are no rules against that".

"Tell that to the Prefect. The _first_ thing we were told was that no one from any other House was welcome in Slytherin's Common Room. I don't think he got that particular memo". Harry hoped he didn't sound too sarcastic. "It was fortunate Neville invited me to the Gryffindor Common Room when he told me about Lily and her being godmother to both him and Luna. How would it sound to tell him he wasn't good enough to visit Slytherin's Common Room? We both know that's how it would come across no matter how you explained it".

"Given your background, your feelings are understandable. You need to realize that the Wizarding World respects tradition much more than you're used to. Friendly competition between Houses also serves to motivate every student to do their best to excel".

"That rivalry between the Lions and Snakes doesn't seem very friendly to me. Then why not a common, Common Room? A place where everyone from all four houses can meet on an equal footing? It's not like there is no room, isn't that true? You sealed off an entire half a floor: it's not like space is a premium".

"There is the library and the Great Hall".

"The library where the head librarian doesn't hesitate to shush you the instant you try to have a conversation? The Great Hall where every House sits together? I mean a common room where you can have a conversation, play games, study together".

"That's a very good idea… I hadn't thought of that. Any remodeling will, of course, have to be approved by the Board of Governors. I will look into it, and, of course, you will get full credit, Harry".

"I hope I haven't seemed to demandy, being that I just got here".

"Not at all, Harry. I am interested in what my students have to say, and a newcomer can bring a fresh perspective. Off you go, you don't want to be late for any more classes".

"No, Professor".

"So what did Dumbledumbass want?", Draco asked as soon as Harry stepped off the spiral stairs.

Harry recounted pretty much everything they'd discussed. He mentioned Dumbledore was meeting with all the Firsties.

"That's it?!", Draco asked, incredulous.

"He didn't want something?", Greg asked.

"Oh I'm sure he wants something alright", Harry explained, "he isn't one to come out with it that quickly or easily. Who knows when that'll be? He's subtle, if nothing else".

"You didn't eat anything?", Vince asked.

"I know better than that: I heard about his lemon drops. Be interesting to have one analyzed", Harry agreed.

"I wouldn't count on Pomphrey's being honest about the results".

 _Slytherin Common Room_

"You been hanging around those Chickendor's _way_ too much, Potter", Zabini the Quiddich player was objecting. "Maybe Luna isn't the only one who could use a resorting".

"Hermione asked if I'd help her out with detention, and I thought I'd ask if anyone wants to come. You do know that Neville is my godbrother?"

"Your misfortune that that butterball is your godbrother. Hell, he's scared of his own shadow – a perfect match for Chickendor. I understand: you had no choice about who family is. Are you going to tell us next that Granger is also a relative? You're supposed to be a Slytherin..."

"And I'm supposed to automatically hate each and every Gryffindor because of that? Yeah, I heard the speech too: 'Depend on Slytherins since we have no one else'. Well, I like Hermione regardless of where that hat put her. Maybe, if you'd try to be nicer to people from other Houses, we'd have more friends. After all, being friendly with a Ravenclaw won us Luna, didn't it?"

"That's right", Luna agreed. "For the first time since I arrived, I feel as though I belong here at Hogwarts. Snakes treated me better than any Eagle ever did".

The forest may have been his best selling point, and no one could deny that having Luna for a study partner wasn't giving Slytherin a leg up on the competition for the House Cup.

"I'm in", Draco announced.

"Us too", Crabbe and Goyle agreed. "At least we get to see what's so special about the Forbidden Forest".

"I'll come", Luna agreed.

"Might as well", Pansy added.

 **0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF**

"Gather 'roun", Hagrid called out outside the Game Keeper's cabin at the edge of the forest. "Tankee awl fer comin ter heps Hermione out on her d'tension. We have fie Slytherins, so ten p'ints fer each makes fiddy p'ints fer Slytherin.

"We have a problem as sumone been huntin unicorns. While Ah doan eckspeck yer'll appren ter poacher, mibbe we can fine a clue err two that'll lead ter his apprehension, sumting – inniting – we can take ter thuh Minstry of Magical Law Enfercement ter put an end tuit.

"How boud we pair off Harry un Draco, Vince un Greg, un ter gurls: Hermione un Pansy. Iff'n yer sees innyting, send up a red flare with yer wans, un Ah'll be dere direkly. If'n dere no questions, den spread out un keep yer eyes open".

"Lumos", Harry and Draco lit their wands as the forest grew increasingly dark the farther in as the thickening canopy blocked out the light of a high, bright, autum full moon. Tangled roots made for slow progress, and Harry was wondering if this wasn't a fool's errand as neither of them could move silently through the forest. Neither had learned any woods craft. Any poacher worthy of his "profession" would hear them coming.

There were the usual night sounds, critters scurrying unseen through fallen leaves, and trough the trees above them. Occasionally, eyes would cast back reflections. So far, nothing seemed the least bit dangerous, and Harry was wondering if Dumbledore wasn't greatly exaggerating the forest's supposed hazards.

"Nox", Harry extinguished his wand.

"What's...", Draco started.

"Hear that?", Harry asked.

"No, nothing".

"Precisely. Why are all the critters so silent, so suddenly?"

"That way!", Draco said as he'd heard something.

Creeping up a small hillside, they saw a dark figure crouched beside a unicorn calling out in torment by what little light made it through the trees.

"You there!", Draco called out.

"Petrificus Totalis!", Harry fired off the spell just as the dark robed figure disapparated.

Whoever this was had been drinking unicorn blood from the animal's neck. Draco fired off a flare that burst above the canopy, illuminating a horrible sight. Hagrid and the others were heard coming from all directions.

"Who could do such a thing?", Hermione asked. The others stood around, wands glowing.

"How horrible", Pansy agreed and looked about to pass out, but being a Slytherin among Gryffindors and Slytherin boys made sure she didn't allow herself to.

Vince and Greg were doing their best to put on a strong front.

"We should do something...", Pansy started.

"Avada Kadavra!", Harry put the beast out of its misery with a burst of green light.

That Harry would know an Unforgivable was a surprise, but considering the circumstances, no one thought to ask him about it. Best not to mention it, the unspoken agreement was made.

"Dis ain ter onny won", Hagrid announced. "Whuh hoppened?"

"We saw this figure, robed in all black. Sorry we didn't see his face and there's nothing for us to recognize if we saw him again", Harry explained. "I don't know what he did, but by the time we got there, the unicorn was already down and he was drinking the blood from that gash across his throat..."

"Maybe see whose robes are covered in unicorn blood", Draco suggested. "But… why?"

"Unicorn blood can cure anything", Hermione explained. "It does come at quite a high price though: you lose half a lifetime every time you drink it".

"Dass rye", Hagrid said. "Dass why unicorn blood is illegal. Nuttin to do cept reporr dis to thuh DMLE. Dumblederr not gonna be pleased at dis devel'pment".

"Could it be someone from Hogwarts?", Pansy asked.

"Or Hogsmeade", Vince added.

"Tonight's thuh closess innione come to catchin thuh poacher", Hagrid said. "Well done, Harry, Draco: twenny p'ints fer Slytherin. Twenny p'ints fer Gryffinderr. Dass thuh bess Ah kin do fer ye. C'mon, bess be gittin yers back ter thuh castle. Dass innuff fer one night".

"Hagrid, there was something I wanted to mention", Harry said.

"Whut're ye on aboud?"

"The owlery: have you seen it? It's filthy what with all the birdshit, and decaying bits of food. I'd like to take Hedwig out of there. If there's anything..."

"Tankee fer menshunin it. I'll see whud I kin du. Mebbe have a word with Perfesser Snape, see if'n I can arrange sumpin".

"I'd appreciate that".

"And what, pray tell, have you been up to?", Professor Snape was waiting at the entrance to the Common Room. The addition of seventy points after hours was something the Head of House would notice.

"We volunteered to help out Hermione with her last night of detention, and also Professor Hagrid", Harry explained. "You can ask him".

"I see", Snape drawled. "And why would you do that?"

"I like Hermione, and isn't that what friends are for, to help one another out?"

"Harry asked us, and since this was a chance to see the Forbidden Forest, we all agreed to go too", Draco added.

"Very well, off to bed with you".

"How did you...", Draco began in the dorm.

"Muffliato!", Harry cast the privacy charm.

"An Unforgivable, Harry!"

"It's a long story, and it involves your father".

"He taught you that curse?"

"Indeed he did. I suppose it has something to do with being the Boy Who Lived, and all that notoriety I grew up knowing nothing about. It would seem I have this unknown benefactor who's been using your father as a go-between. It would seem they think I'm in some sort of danger here at Hogwarts, and that I should learn more than the standard first year magic".

"They're gonna know".

"No they won't. Oh sure, they will recognize the work of the Killing Curse, but won't know who did it, and I don't think Hagrid will say".

"It's on your wand! Harry! The first time any professor wants to see your wand, they're gonna know"

"Not this one", Harry said, producing his special wand. "No Priori Incantatum, and it doesn't send alerts to the Ministry either".

"Hell'd you get this?"

Draco couldn't help but notice that Potter's special wand was unlike any other owned by every other student. They also didn't have auror's wand holsters.

"Borgin and Burkes when I turned ten. You asked on the Express how I knew how to cast, and now you know. I used that special wand to practice casting spells. No alerts to the Ministry about magic in muggle areas, and no alerts that an underage wizard was doing illegal wand magic".

"Must've cost a fortune… still, not even Borgin and Burkes sell items like this to just anyone, and certainly not just any random Firstie".

"About 4,000 Galleons. Not a problem considering how much gold is in the Potter family vaults. This was also quite persuasive", Harry said as he produced Gaunt's signet ring. "Being the Heir of Slytherin, and Lord of the Ancient and Noble House of Gaunt didn't hurt either".

"You know what this means?"

"I'm technically Voldemort's superior".

"What were they afraid of?"

"Now that, I don't know. Up till now, I wondered about that myself, seeing that everything seemed pretty normal around here. Snape's a demanding pain in the ass, Sprout pretty much lets you skate – I mean, how hard is gardening? Upperclassmen look down on us Firsties, and you have the school bullies, the teacher's pets, the dorks, the jocks, the socially inept bumblers. Not any different from muggle school when you come down to it.

"Muggle schools didn't have any masked and robed freaks drinking unicorn blood. Maybe there is something to their concerns? If Hogwarts is supposed to be so safe, so heavily warded, then how come a freak like that even gets onto school grounds?"

"It's like Father always said: Dumbledumbass is an incompetent old fool who should have been put out to pasture decades ago. He had something to do with it, I'm sure. Hell, maybe it was him out there in the forest".

"Hermione said… besides, look at him. Does it look like he's been losing half lives lately?"

"Miss Question-All could be wrong, yannow. I wouldn't put it past the old coot, doing something to prolong his miserable life until he accomplishes the ruination of Hogwarts".

"If it was Dumbledore, then why would Hagrid be trying to catch the culprit? I've never seen someone so loyal to anyone than Hagrid is to Dumbledore".

"And if Dumbledumbass wanted that culprit caught, then caught he would be. If he's any sort of wizard the rumours would have us believe, that is. Or he already knows who it is, and still deliberately let them on campus. Incompetent or deceitful: it has to be one or the other".

"I caught him trying to use Legilimancy on me that first day at breakfast".

"No shit? Then why don't you report it?"

"To whom? With no evidence?".

"Then what will you do?"

"Same as I'm doing all along: stay as far from Dumbledore as I can, and do as your Dad suggested, develop a reliable circle of friends I can trust, both within Slytherin and other Houses as well".

"The others are going to want to know".

"I think we can trust each other, and Pansy, Greg and Vince, Hermione and Hagrid".

"Hagrid's Dumbledore's man..."

"He's also friends with James and Lily – he thought quite highly of my original parents and still does, and he loves his critters more than Dumbledore or any other human. He'll know who to trust".

"I still think you're taking one hell of a chance".

"I don't, and even if he does, well, those cats were destined to get out of that bag sooner or later".

Ron Weasley's detention didn't go so well. Filch had him cleaning the restrooms the muggle way: on hands and knees with a scrub brush and a bucket of water. He would be spending the rest of his time at Hogwarts in detention with Filch until after Christmas.

 **0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF**

"Everybody: suit up", Marcus Flint, the Slytherin Quiddich captain called out.

This Saturday was try-outs. Potter was contending for Seeker, despite Flint's doubts. If McGonagall and Snape so highly recommended him, there was no way he'd allow any Firstie to try-out. Harry donned the uniform with its elbow and knee pads.

"Take two laps around the pitch", Flint ordered.

Hermione, Ron, Dean, Lavender, the Patil twins, were also there as Gryffindor's try-outs would take place after Slytherin's. Ron was fuming inside. He was quite the Quiddich fanatic, and longed to play on the team, but he would have to wait until next year. That Potter was trying-out was just another indication as to the favoritism being shown the Boy Who Lived. That Potter was taking full advantage was evident to him.

The prospective Seekers, Beaters, and Keepers were put through their paces. Finally, Harry and a second year, Julius Slade, were called to the center of the pitch.

"First, let's see how you do without the Bludgers. After that, we'll see how you do with Bludgers flying at you. Up you go"

Harry and his competitor took off to about the height of the top tier of seats.

"Here comes the Snitch!", Flint called out.

The little golden ball pretty quickly disappeared from sight. Harry decided to fly across the longitudinal attitude of the pitch, all the while looking for that tell-tale glint of gold. Julius seemed a bit confused, staying still while trying to see. He decided to follow Potter's lead.

Thanks to his Aunt and Uncle, and his new contacts, Harry spotted the Snitch hesitate briefly, near the goal posts on the far side of the pitch. He took off for it. Julius noticed and was following, clinging to Harry's bristles. The game of chicken went on as Harry dived at what seemed a reckless pace. Julius peeled off, and Harry swooped up at the last possible moment, Snitch in hand.

Dealing with Bludgers made it a bit more difficult, as you needed to keep one eye out for those cannon balls. Harry figured it was best to listen for the crack of the bat, anticipate the direction, and then look to take any evasive maneuvers. Once again, Harry spotted it first, and Julius was coming on fast. Rather than avoid an on-coming Bludger that would delay him, he swung his broom around, batting it away. Harry beat Julius to the Snitch by inches.

"A brilliant bit of flying", Flint congratulated, "welcome to the team".

An elated Harry shook hands all around with those who were now his team mates.

"First match is in two weeks, Slytherin versus Hufflepuff. We'll be hitting the pitch for practice after class. Do us proud, and lets' get that Cup!"


	11. Quiddich Intrigue

**Quiddich Intrigue**

After Slytherin's try-outs, Ron made yet another overture of ingratiation to the Boy Who Lived.

"Congratulations", Ron offered his hand, "that was some brilliant flying. I follow all the teams, even though the Chudley Cannons are my favorite, of course. I don't think Viktor Krum himself could have done it batter".

Harry recognized the name, even though he didn't follow Quiddich that closely. That would have to change, now that he was a player.

"That might be a bit of exaggeration, but thanks for saying so". Harry took the offered hand. No reason to unnecessarily provoke the younger Weasley, even if he was an asshole.

"Enjoy it while you can", Ron said, "next year you'll be playing _me_ ".

"Looking forward to it".

The post try-out team meeting was being held in Slytherin's locker room. Flint was going over the results. There were complaints that the school brooms weren't that good.

"If I may", Harry interrupted, "there is one thing I've learned being raised by muggles. The muggles have their professional sports teams too, and what's called an 'endorsement'".

"What does that have to do with anything?", Zabini objected.

"I was getting to that. Since I'm the first Firstie Seeker in a century, there is likely going to be publicity. The _Prophet_ doesn't miss much. So how about proposing to broom manufacturers to give us decent brooms to sponsor Slytherin's team. We get new brooms, and they get to brag about how Slytherin is using their brooms".

"Do you think that will work?", Flint asked.

"What's the worst that could happen? They say no, and we're still stuck with sucky brooms. They just might say yes".

"Since you seem to know so much about it, we'll leave that up to you", Marcus said.

 **0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF**

"Madam Bones", Albus greeted, "what brings the Minister of the the department here? Surely a case of poaching isn't all that important?". Minister Bones was accompanied by the aurors Williamson and Dawlish.

Amelia Bones didn't exactly fit the title, as she was one of the youngest Ministers of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, being not out of her thirties. She was attractive, for sure, but her looks didn't conceal her severity. She wore a monocle, a masculine accessory that enhanced the no-nonsense air she projected. Albus knew the bad news his Game Keeper had delivered was going to get a lot worse.

"I find it disturbing that unicorn poachers are able to operate so close to the Perimeter, and at a castle filled with children. Children whose parents are counting on school staff to keep safe. That's not all, examination of the carcass recovered from the Forbidden Forest show unmistakable signs that the cause of death was the Killing Curse. While the desire to end the suffering of a fatally wounded animal is admirable, the method is questionable. How is it, Albus, that one or more of your students are using Unforgivables? And Firsties at that!"

"I assure you, none of my students learned that curse in any of my classes. We don't even mention these curses until the fourth year. You know our syllabus".

"I know what you officially teach. It's what your students are learning unofficially that concerns me".

"You need not worry about that", Dumbledore reassured.

"Ye muss be mistaken", Hagrid answered, "ain no buddy use thuh Killin Curss. No suh, none dat Ah seen".

"Just because you didn't see it doesn't mean it wasn't used, Professor. I would suspect you had you not lost your wand when you were expelled from Hogwarts decades ago. I would like to speak with the students involved in private, if you please".

"Certainly, Madam Bones, we will do everything to see that your investigation is successful", Dumbledore promised.

One by one, the students received excuse slips with a message that they were to come with the house elf message runner.

"Have a seat, Mr Potter", Dawlish was seated behind a desk to present the most intimidating image possible. "Do you know why you are here?"

"I have no idea", Harry answered.

Amelia Bones and Dumbledore were watching remotely these interrogations. Also present were the heads of the Houses: Severus Snape and Minerva McGonagall.

"It concerns the events of the other night, in the Forbidden Forest. I understand you were not in detention? What were you doing in the forest?"

"I was helping out my friend..."

"That would be Ms Granger?"

"That's right, she asked if I could help. Why not help out a friend in need? Isn't that what friends are for?"

"Wand", Williamson demanded.

Harry turned over his student wand.

"Priori Incantatum", Williamson cast the recall spell. "Nothing", he reported.

"Do you, perhaps, have another wand, Mr Potter?"

"You can ask Ollivander..."

"He assured us he didn't sell more than one wand. There are other means of securing wands".

"I wouldn't know about that".

"Never been to Knockturn Alley?"

"Never. You do know I was raised in a muggle family? There are lots of things about this world that are new to me".

"Not exactly a muggle family, was it? Your step mother is a squib from a wizarding family, and was the sister of your mother Lily Evans. So you weren't completely ignorant, were you?"

"Not completely", Harry agreed. "I don't recall the subject ever came up, though".

"You know what an Unforgivable Curse is?"

"There are some curses that you aren't allowed to perform".

"Ever cast one?"

"Of course not. You examined my wand..."

" _A_ wand, Mr Potter"

"The one and only wand I have".

"So you say. My sources tell me you're pretty adept at casting. Care to explain?"

Harry told his standard tale: that he read ahead his mother's old texts since he felt he needed to familiarize himself due to his lacking a full wizarding background. About how he practiced casting with an ordinary stick.

"You may go", Harry was dismissed.

He was led to an adjacent classroom where Hermione, Draco, and Vince were waiting. They would be held incommunicado as to not alert the others about the investigation to prevent their making up cover stories.

"Wait until Father hears about this!", Draco complained.

"Calm down", Hermione told him, "I'm sure it's nothing. Just a routine investigation"

At least they knew enough to suspect every word was being overheard.

Finally, Dawlish arrived: "You're free to go", he dismissed all his suspects.

"They proclaimed their innocence", Bones explained.

"Veratis would loosen some tongues", Dawlish countered, "or legilimancy..."

"Based on what evidence?", Bones explained. "We can't use legilimancy on minors without parental permission, and there's no cause to use veritas serum either. Our hands are tied, I'm afraid.

"That doesn't mean, however, that I won't be keeping a closer eye on how Hogwarts is being run", she threatened by implication.

"Myself and my staff always welcome scrutiny in the public interest", Dumbledore said. "There is nothing to hide here, and you will have our full co-operation to see the end of poaching in our forest".

"Good day, Albus", Madam Bones concluded her visit.

"Good day, Madam Bones", Dumbledore bid farewell.

Amelia Bones and her aurors flooed back to the Ministry.

Snape wasn't quite done with the matter.

"It really is too bad there are so many liberals sitting on the Board condoning permissiveness", he explained after cornering Harry after Potions, "there is something to be said about the old ways. We are unfortunately forbidden to use veritas serum on our students, but that doesn't mean that some couldn't accidentally find its way into your morning pumpkin juice, if you catch my drift, Mr Pot-ter".

"Professor..."

"Mr Pot-ter, don't go down the same path as your late father by making life difficult for me. I assure you: I can make life here at Hogwarts quite difficult for you should I so choose. Do we have an understanding, Mr Pot-ter?"

"Yes, Professor"

"Don't you forget it… Now be off with you".

"That was a close call", Draco reprimanded his dorm mate after lights out that evening.

"Yes, it was", Harry agreed.

"That unicorn would've bled out on its own. You shouldn't take chances like that".

"What would you have me do? It was in agony. You were there, you saw. I couldn't just let the poor beast suffer, knowing I could do something about it. How could you even think..."

"Better than getting expelled, better than Azkaban..."

"Except I didn't use it on a human. They're not gonna put you in Azkaban for putting down a suffering animal. I highly doubt expulsion would be an option either. Yeah, maybe a stern talking-to from Dumbledore, maybe a suspension, or detention. I'd have a lot of explaining to do. I'd claim I erased my student wand of the record of casting the Unforgivable and apologize 'sincerely' (finger quotes)".

"And if they expelled you, confiscated your wand, bound your magic..."

"The Boy Who Lived? I _highly_ doubt _that_. Can you imagine how Fudge would explain that? Even if they did, so what? I'd go on to high school and university, get my degree in Veterinary Medicine like I planned to before that letter from Hogwarts ever arrived. No big deal. Actually, that's what I have in mind anyway: go to university after Hogwarts. No reason why I can't be a vet, take care of all critters, magical or not".

The possibility that a disgraced magician could ever find employment with muggles never occurred to Draco.

"You'd be fine with that?"

"Yep. I'm not saying I wouldn't miss it, the magic that is. After all, I've lived most of my life as a muggle. It's just that there are some things more important, such as not giving up your compassion just because it inconveniences some people like Ms Bones or Professor Dumbledore. It's not like I'm all on my own here. We're Slytherins and we're lying, cheating, deceitful bastards who always stick together".

"Right", Draco agreed. "Just don't do it again".

"Agreed".

It was one of the side benefits of being best friends with the son of Lucius Malfoy: smoothing over problems for Draco smoothed over problems for Harry.

Dumbledore sat alone in his office. He had just been handed quite an unexpected dilemma. Not only did he have Minister Bones making threats about closer scrutiny, which was the _last_ thing he wanted, he was certain that Harry had cast the Killing Curse. How, and where, did he learn that curse? How much else did he know?

 **0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF**

Harry figured right: that morning's _Daily Prophet_ featured an article describing how the Boy who Lived had made House Slytherin's Quiddich team. He found this somewhat creepy: how so many in Magical Britain obsessed over his life. These were people he didn't know making him their heroic icon. He noted the byline of the article: Rita Skeeter. He was sure he'd be meeting her, sooner or later, and probably sooner. Time to start taking advantage, Harry reasoned. Get off letters to broom makers, especially Clean Sweep and Comet to make the offer of sponsorship.

Harry decided to use his break time to see Hagrid.

"Have a cuppa?", Hagrid invited. He poured out two generous cups of herbal tea.

"Thanks, I just wanted to say how grateful Hedwig and I are for arranging for him to stay in the dorm while the owlery is being cleaned".

Dumbledore agreed to allow all students with owls the chance to bring them to their dorms, provided that they made sure their owls behaved. Professor Snape was none too pleased about that: owls in the dorms.

"Tink nuttin uvit. Ye whir rye: it was uh disgrace".

Neither Argus Filch nor Ron Weasley were so thrilled. The former as he'd been reprimanded in his role of care taker for allowing the owlery to become so filthy. As for Ron, Filch put him to work scrubbing the walls and floors of owl shit and spoiled food. This job looked like it would take until the Christmas break.

"About the other night…", Harry started. He knew the subject had to come up sooner or later.

"Aye", Hagrid agreed. "Where'd ye lern thah curse? Ye knows thah's an Unforgivable?"

"I studied ahead", Harry explained. "I used my mother's old Hogwarts tests. It was mentioned in her Defense Against the Dark Arts texts. What else could I do? I couldn't let that unfortunate unicorn to just suffer could I? I wasn't even sure I could do it, being I never cast that spell before".

"Aye, ye dunn ter rye t'ing", Hagrid agreed, "endin its terrrment. Ah could'na dunn innyting ter end its sufferin. Das wye Ah nevver mention it. Juss be careful, Harry, would'na want ter see ye espelled and wanless, laik I was. Juss be careful, Harry".

"I intend to… what happened?"

"Issa long sterry, mebbe Ah tells ye sumday… Inniway, ye ain ter onny one wiff a secret".

"Oh?"

Hagrid brought out something he'd been keeping concealed near the fireplace.

"That looks like..."

"Aye, it is. A dragon egg, an it's getting close ter hatchin".

"So that's why you've been keeping the cabin so hot?"

"Aye, dragon eggs need lotsa warmth ter hatch".

"Is that such a good idea? I mean, hatching a dragon in a wood cabin?"

"If'n Ah dint take it, who take care uvvit? Without proper incubatin it would'a died. Ah could'na 'low dat ter happen, could Ah? Inniways, figger dat out layder".

"Where did you find a dragon egg? Somewhere in the forest?"

"Ain no dragons in thuh foress. Ah won it playin cawds at the T'ree Broomstciks down Hogsmeade. Sumwon new ter town. Could'na play no limit Fie Cawd Stud worff nuttin. Cleaned him out, un dat was awl he had leff ter play awn. Inniways, we got ter talkin 'bout critters, un I tole him 'bout Fluffy..."

"Fluffy?"

"Dis Cerberus whose frenship Ah cultivated. Been usin him fer guard duty up awn ter t'ird floor corriderr, though he tenter fawl 'sleep wiff music. Ah tried 'splainin ter thuh P'fesserr, dat he not trained fer guard duty, but he doan mine. Inniway, he den tole me 'bout dis dragon egg he 'quired sumhow – he dint say – so's Ah figger it whern't awl on thuh up-un-up, if'n ye knows whut Ah mean".

"Keeping dragons is illegal?"

"Aye, ter onny wons whut kin breed dragons are specially 'proved un lie-sund preserves. Closses won is Nerrway, dats where Charlie Weasley went affer graduatin Hogwarts".

"Is he related to Ron, then?"

"Aye, Charlie be ter oldess of ter Weasley boys, Ron's older brother. He wassa champeen Seeker fer Gryffinderr. Awl ter Weasley's passin through Hogwarts; necks year ter youngest, Ginny, be startin".

"I don't suppose there have been any further developments on catching the unicorn poacher?"

"Thuh aurors been over thuh scene, un so's Ah. Juss futile, no clues as ter who dunnit. Ah juss tryan ter do my bess: keepin an eye on whut's leff of ter herd.

"Inniways, ye bess be gittin 'long. Yer doan wannabe late ferr class".

"Thanks for everything".

"Doan t'ink nuttin uvvit".

Hagrid had given Harry information to file away for future reference.

After class, Harry took Hedwig outside for one of the last reasonably warm afternoons they'd likely see before winter hit. He and the other Slytherins settled down by Black Lake.

"You can stretch your wings", Harry told the owl as he gave him a treat. "Just don't be going too far".

Hedwig was happy to be out of his cage, and definitely happy to be out of that filthy owlery.

Students from the other houses were likewise gathered in their own little knots. Ron broke from the Gryffindors and approached.

"Harry", he began, "I know we didn't exactly get on a great start..."

"If you have a point in there, get to it", Draco said.

"Let's hear him out", Harry told him.

"I just wanted to say 'congratulations' on making the team. A peace offering", he held out a book: _Quiddich Through the Ages_. "I think it just might help you out".

"Thanks", Harry accepted the gift.

"Just a loan", Ron reminded.

"I'm sure it'll be a big help. That was thoughtful of you". Harry almost put an 'uncharacteristically' in there. "Sure you won't get in any trouble with the fans of Team Gryffindor?"

"We're still gonna kick your ass", Ron assured.

"We'll see about that", Zabini told him. "Don't be braggin' until you actually have that Quiddich Cup in your possession".

"Thanks, again, Ron", Harry said to head off an unnecessary confrontation. "See you around?"

"See you around", Ron agreed.

"Why be so nice to that prick?", Millicent asked.

"Yeah", Draco added.

"Hogwarts has enough assholes, we don't need another. Yeah, Ron's been nothing but an asshole ever since we started, but what good can come from being just as assholish back to him? Hell, his book might even prove useful. When it comes to Quiddich, I know next to nothing".

"The worst of the Chickendors...", Vince started.

"Why not cultivate good relations with the other houses? Isn't that better than cultivating enmity? Who knows, Ron might even prove useful some day..."

"PFFFF!, Crabbe dismissed, "Ron? Useful?"

"If not him, then others from Gryffindor", Harry explained. "We Slytherins are supposed to be the bad boys of Hogwarts, but aren't we also supposed to collect debts? What's wrong with collecting debts from Gryffindor, or Hufflepuff, or Ravenclaw? Maybe it's high time to change our reputation a bit?"

 **0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF**

Next Saturday would be the big event: Slytherin v. Hufflepuff to kick off Hogwarts Quiddich season. Team Hufflepuff was taking their final practice before the match kicked off. So far, the team captain was pleased with how his team performed during this mock-up game. No Slytherin spies he could detect. Everything was going well, a bit too well. The day had started out chilly, with a light mist rolling in from the forest, but the afternoon sun had burned it off. Not exactly warm, but clear: perfect Quiddich weather. If only Saturday could be so good, though weather in the Highlands wasn't so predictable.

Much to the chagrin of the other teams, Team Slytherin received Nimbus 2000's on a sponsorship. The whole team, decked out in their Slytherin uniforms, turned out for a photo shoot.

The Hufflepuff Seeker, Cedric Diggory, had flown into position, just above the highest tier of seats, when it happened. A burst of red from behind the tree line caught Cedric. A stunner sent him pluummeting helpless to the pitch some twenty feet below.

"Get Madam Pomphrey at once!", someone called out.

"Sonorius!", the team captain applied the amplification charm to his neck: "MADAM POMPHREY TO THE QUIDDICH PITCH IMMEDIATELY! WE HAVE AN EMERGENCY!"

Madam Pomphery and her nurse assistants arrived almost at once, followed by Dumbledore, McGonagall, Sprout, head of Hufflepuff. Random students also heard, and were coming to see…

"Everyone!", Dumbledore called out, "Stay well back!", he ordered.

"What happened here?", Pomphery asked.

"Stunner", she was told. "He never knew what hit him".

"This is bad… very bad… We need to get him to St Mungos right away", she announced.

The nurse assistants levitated a badly injured Cedric toward the infirmary, and then to St Mungos.

"What happened here?", Dumbledore asked.

"A stunner", the Hufflepuff captain explained. "Over there", he pointed.

"Are you certain?"

"We saw it too", several players said.

"See that the area is secured", Dumbledore ordered the heads of the houses. "Preserve the site until the aurors get here".

"Break it up! Alleyez back to your dorms!", Filch ordered the gathering curious students.


	12. A Visit from Lucius

**A Visit from Lucius**

"Unicorn poachers, Unforgivables, and now attempted murder of a student", Madam Bones had flooed to the Headmaster's office with a dozen of her crack aurors. "To say I am displeased would be an understatement, Albus. Need I remind you, Mr Diggory was under your care. I'm beginning to wonder if Hogwarts is in the right hands".

"I understand your concern, and I assure you, I share those concerns".

"Do you, Albus?"

"I can attest that the Headmaster has no priority higher than the well being of all our students", McGonagall defended. "His nearly fifty years serving as Headmaster speaks for itself".

"Deputy Headmistress, it's not the previous decades that concern me at the moment. It's what's going on here right now that's the issue".

What official channels were lacking in news was more than made up for by the rumour mill. Hogwarts was on lock-down, and nothing like this had ever occurred in anyone's living memory. Not even during the last Wizarding War a decade ago, had classes been suspended, and all students sent to their respective dorms in the middle of the school day. Naturally, all the suspicion was sent Slytherin's way. Everyone knew this was a rebuilding year for Team Slytherin, as their best players had graduated. They had a Firstie Seeker, and the team was in the position of battling it out for second or third place behind the likely victors: Team Hufflepuff or Team Gryffindor. It didn't help that Team Slytherin had a reputation for playing dirty, always skirting the thin edge of the rules.

Even worse, there was no word about how Cedric was doing.

Fortunately, Harry was able to get off an owlpost just ahead of lock-down.

The evening meal was uncomfortable: everyone was glaring daggers at the Slytherin table, especially the Badgers.

"Bet they had something to do with it..."

"Never thought they'd go so far to win the Cup..."

"Only a question of which one..."

Snippets of conversation swirled around the Great Hall.

Finally, the Headmaster took the podium:

"I'm sure we're all concerned about Mr Diggory. I am informed that the prompt action of the Hufflepuff team captain and Madam Pomphrey saved his life. Unfortunately, Mr Diggory won't be playing Seeker for the rest of the year. It's questionable if he will ever walk again, and the next 24 hours should tell. He will have a long road to recovery ahead of him.

"I can tell you only this: the investigation is on-going at the moment. I would remind everyone that spreading rumours does no one any good, and that you should trust official channels only, including statements the Department of Magical Law Enforcement sees fit to release, or from myself or Professor McGonagall. I ask for your patience in this matter, and for your co-operation to see this investigation concluded successfully".

 _Malfoy Manor_

"Dobby", Lucius called out.

"Master call Dobby?", the elf appeared at once.

Since Lucius Lutra's intervention, Dobby's treatment had improved tremendously. He was no longer in fear of being called to his master's side. No longer was he ordered to self punish for his mistakes.

"A most disturbing communique from Harry: I need a big favour".

"A favour? From Dobby?"

"Lives could be at stake, and, yes, it's that important. I need you to find Lucius Lutra and bring him here ASAP".

"Bring Lucius Lutra? Where..."

"He lives along the banks of the Torridge in North Devon. I'm sure his holt will be enchanted and warded, so you'll detect the magical fields. If it's any help, he said he lives near the Canal Bridge".

"Dobby shall not fail his Master", he promised before disapparating.

 _Hogwarts: McGonagall's Office_

Madam Bones and her aurors had taken temporary possession of the Deputy Headmistress' office to conduct interrogations.

"Tell me, Mr Potter, where were you during the hours in question?"

"I was with Draco in the Common Room. We have a Transfigurations test coming up".

"Anyone see you there?"

"No, Ma'am. Just Draco and me"

"You're best friends?"

"Pretty much, yeah, you could say that".

Harry knew this was a thin alibi, though he knew he didn't have anything to do with it. He would have suggested Veritas right then and there, but didn't want Bones asking too many questions about Unforgivables and hidden wands.

"Any thoughts on who would attack Cedric?"

"I don't know him all that well, but I don't think he had an enemy in the world".

"He had at least one. Any trouble with his classmates?"

"You do know about the legendary rivalry between Gryffindor and Slytherin? They are usually the ones causing problems. There was also that incident with the Ravenclaw girls who were bullying my godsister. As for the Badgers, no trouble at all. We Slytherins consider Hufflepuff the 'loser's house' (finger quotes) so we have little to do with them. And Hufflepuff pretty much wants to be friendly with everyone, so they aren't the trouble makers that Gryffindor and, dare I say it, Slytherin are. As who had it in for Cedric, I have no idea, but it wasn't anyone in Slytherin".

"Would any other members of Slytherin have a stake in seeing that Cedric couldn't play?"

"We do have our Quiddich fanatics, but I don't see anyone's wanting a Quiddich Cup so badly to nearly commit cold blooded murder".

"If they did, would you tell me?"

"I've said it before and I'll say it again. I consider house rivalries to be just a bit silly. However loyal to Slytherin I may be, that doesn't extend to covering up for something like this. The only things I've been hearing in Slytherin is the same sort of speculation you'd find in the other three houses. No one really knows anything".

"There is still the question about the Killing Curse and the unicorn".

"I'm not seeing a connection".

"Let me explain it: we have one Gryffindor, and five Slytherins in the forest that night, and one Killing Curse that was undeniably cast, and a missing wand that cast it. The first thing we did was examine all wands of students and faculty alike, and unsurprisingly there were no Stupify spells cast during the time of the incident. Are you beginning to appreciate my dilemma yet?"

"You still think it was one of us?"

"I rule out nothing this early in an investigation… that will be all… for now".

 **0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF**

More bad news arrived the next morning with the _Daily Prophet_ :

 **BOY WHO LIVED GOES TOO FAR?**

This was the head line of an attack piece.

 _Ever since Potter's arrival at Hogwarts, the staff from the Headmaster on down have bent over backwards to cater to his every whim. Of course, this includes allowing Potter to play as Slytherin's Seeker. As we all know, Hogwarts rules prohibit any first year student to posses a broom, or playing this rough and dangerous game._

 _Further evidence that Potter believes rules apply to everyone except himself is that every member of Slytherin's Quiddich team was gifted with top of the line Nimbus 2000 brooms, giving Team Slytherin a most unfair advantage on the Quiddich pitch. The other three teams can only use the brooms Hogwarts supplies. As have every other team for as long as anyone of us can remember._

 _If you didn't know, Team Slytherin was not expected to win this year's Quiddich Cup, as last spring's graduations saw the team lose most of its experienced and outstanding players who brought home last year's Quiddich Cup._

 _Perhaps Mr. Potter wasn't willing to wait as Slytherin rebuilt its team? No one can deny that this attack that leaves the Hufflepuff Seeker, Cedric Diggory, incapacitated and unable to play the remainder of the season, helps Team Slytherin's chances._

 _Has the fame of the Boy Who Lived gone to his head? This reporter leaves that up to you to decide._

– _Rita Skeeter_

"She sure changed her tune in a hurry"

"That's _all_ you have to say?!", Draco asked. "How could you..."

"I prefer to give Hedwig better reading material than that rag. That's what they do: make up sensational bullshit to move copy. It isn't any different in the muggle world. Aunt Petunia was always bringing home crap like that every time she went to market. I never wanted the notoriety that goes along with being the Boy Who Lived. I'm not surprised, and if that means letting down all those fawning acolytes, so be it".

"Wait till Father sees this!", Draco raged on.

"So long as freedom of the press is protected, there isn't a damn thing he can do about it. That's the problem with freedom: there will always be those who abuse it. I'm sure the _Prophet_ had its legal department go over that article to make sure it avoided slander. Don't be expecting any retractions any time soon. Not. Gonna. Happen".

"Maybe I can help", Luna offered. "I'm pretty sure my father would be happy to print your statement in _The Quibbler_ ".

"I just might take you up on that offer", Harry said. "Let's see if this whole shitstorm blows over".

"Hey Potter!", Dean Thomas called from the Gryffindor table, "when are you gonna take out our Seeker? Only way..."

The Slytherins were standing, wands were being drawn…

"He didn't do it!", Ron Weasley called out. This was not expected, least of all by Harry. Ron's track record wasn't so swell.

"How would you know?", someone asked.

"One Quiddich player to another: I know..."

"Everyone calm down!", Dumbledore called out with a Sonorious from the staff table. "There is no excuse for this, and if it doesn't stop this instant, there will be detentions. Let us allow Madam Bones and the DMLE conclude their investigation before throwing out irresponsible accusations. I expect better from my students, and I _will_ have it. Is that understood?"

Unfortunately, the shitstorm was just beginning. A Howler dropped in front of Harry.

"You cowardly little shit...", it began. Harry strangled that Howler with his bare hands, releasing a burst of incidental magic that vapourized it. The owls still weren't done, as more Howlers and hate mail arrived, piling up in front of Harry until it overflowed.

Professor Dumbledore had to intervene, stop the deliveries so that breakfast could be served.

"It pains me to see you subjected to this", Dumbledore told him after breakfast.

"They sure changed their tune in a hurry", Harry agreed.

"The public is notorious in its fickleness".

"Isn't there anything the DMLE can do about this? Sending such messages to children".

"I will ask Madam Bones, but, there probably isn't much she can do. No way of telling who sent those letters".

Madam Bones confirmed that there was little that could be done about hate mail that contained nasty words and opinions. Scans of the pile of mail revealed that some contained dangerous items that carried curses. Some poisonous extracts of magical plants. These, she could investigate.

"I understand all about freedom of speech", Harry told the Minister of the DMLE. "It's certainly a crime of some sort, sending cursed items meant to do me great harm".

"That it is, but we have a problem if we can't identify the sender".

"Your department could release a press statement that you are investigating. The senders don't know you can't identify them, can they? Also, mention that Hogwarts is intercepting these messages and that I'll never see them".

"It's the least we can do", Bones agreed.

The next morning's edition did indeed carry Madam Bones' statement. However, they still couldn't resist taking another shot at Harry: "The Boy Who Lived bends the Department of Magical Law Enforcement to his will. Who's next? Minister Fudge himself?"

"I'll take you up on your offer", Harry told Luna.

"Prepare a statement and _The Quibbler_ will publish it just as you write it. I'll owl Father to let him know it's on the way".

"Thanks, Luna"

"We Slytherins take care of our own".

Luna's father owled enough _Quibblers_ to make certain everyone got a chance to see this special edition.

 **HARRY POTTER: IN HIS OWN WORDS**

 _I want to make one thing perfectly clear so there is no misunderstanding: I never asked to be the "Boy Who Lived". I never asked to be anyone's icon. Up until I entered Hogwarts, I lived apart from the Wizarding World. I heard second hand from my Aunt Petunia about my parents and their fate. While I can understand the sense of relief over the fall of Voldemort back when I was a one year old baby, I take no credit for the banishment of the self-proclaimed Dark Lord. If it were up to me, I would still have parents, I would still be just plain old Harry Potter from Godric's Hollow. I would join the Hogwarts family as an ordinary Firstie, and not a wizarding "celebrity". This is still what I desire: to be a Firstie like the rest of my class and friends._

 _If anyone deserves credit, it's my mother: Lily Potter. It was her sacrifice, giving no thought for herself, that made the banishment possible. That she is gone while I remain makes me an 'icon'; I suppose as the next best thing. All the accusations that I have been taking advantage are so much nonsense. As for the Quiddich team and the Nimbus 2000's, this was something I learned from the muggle world. The makers of sporting equipment often enter into endorsement agreements where muggle athletes are seen using the manufacturer's equipment. I suggested the same deal to broom makers. Team Slytherin was offered the Nimbus 2000's for this very purpose: to advertise their brooms. They could have declined. As far as I know, my being the Boy Who Lived had nothing to do with their decision – a strictly business decision._

 _As for how I became Slytherin's Seeker, I happened to intervene to prevent the serious injury of one of my classmates by preventing a flying accident. The Deputy Headmistress, Minerva McGonagall, saw what happened and suggested I might make a good Quiddich player, again, something I wasn't even considering at the time. I tried out for the team, and the team captain selected me on merit alone. He wants to win that Quiddich Cup much more than pander to an "icon". Being the Boy Who Lived won't count for anything on the Quiddich pitch._

 _As for accusations of cowardice in not wanting to face Hufflepuff's Seeker, this, too, is nonsense. Who are the real cowards here? Me or those so-called adults who send hate mail anonymously to an eleven year old boy? Some of these missives have even contained poisons and cursed artifacts. These have been turned over to the DMLE who is investigating these criminal acts of immature and childish, so-called adults. How many of these very same people were cowering in their homes during Voldemort's rampage? How many of them – to this very day – are terrified of even saying that name: Voldemort? And they have the unmitigated gall to call me "coward"!_

 _I could say I'm sorry for not living up to your ideals of what an icon should be, but I won't because I'm not. My feet contain as much clay as anyone else's, and I make mistakes. I've done it before and I'll do it again. However, I don't give a damn whether anyone I don't know, never met and likely never will thinks I've let them down._

– _Harry Potter_

There was a post script:

 _These words are Harry Potter's, complete and unedited. I quite agree: the treatment Mr Potter has received in this trying time as he copes with the near death and serious injury of a fellow of Hogwarts is beyond despicable._

– _Xenophilius Lovegood: Chief Editor_

 **0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF**

Madam Bones had concluded the investigation. Students, especially Marcus Flint, the Captain of Team Slytherin, had been thoroughly grilled, as were the faculty, especially Snape: head of House Slytherin. Even Filius Flitwick and the Ravenclaw girls who'd bullied Luna came under heavy scrutiny, as revenge could have been a motive. The investigation revealed no suspects.

"I am sorry your investigation wasn't more fruitful", Dumbledore told her.

"Are you, Professor?"

"Why wouldn't I want the attacker of one of my students, one of our family, brought to justice?"

"I can think of at least one good reason: how did this individual get that close to one of your students? Once again, we have a failure of the Perimeter. One would question the competence of he who put up those wards. If the wards weren't breached, then it was an inside job. One would tend to question the competence of anyone who would allow such a person onto the campus of a school filled with children. Isn't that _your_ responsibility Professor?"

"Indeed it is, and one I take with the utmost seriousness", Dumbledore protested the implied accusations.

"If I had any evidence, I would take this matter to the Board of Governors. So far, your reputation and positions within the government would make that difficult. Be that as it may, I will be keeping a closer eye on the situation. I warn you: this had best be the last incident here that involves the DMLE. Need I remind you: my niece is one of your students. And quite frankly, I'm this close (thumb and forefinger together) to urging her parents to pull her out and send her elsewhere, for her safety".

Dumbledore knew how bad that would look: the Minister of the DMLE demonstrating that level of distrust in the Headmaster. It was bad enough, and Dumbledore knew he'd be cashing in some political chits. The last thing he needed was the involvement of the Board, as his nemesis, Lucius Malfoy, was on that Board.

"I assure you that Susan Bones, as well as all our students, are quite safe here at Hogwarts".

"That remains to be seen. Good day, Professor".

"Good day, Madam Bones".

 **0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF**

The Torridge wound for miles, had six bridges crossing it, and Dobby had little to go on. He often came across otters at play, but when he called for Lucius, none answered, just looked briefly at the strange being, and proceeded to ignore him. Since the end of otter hunting, they wouldn't see any humanoid as a threat.

It took two days to find it: Canal Bridge. He could feel the beginnings of magical fields and the wards. He apparated across the wards using elven magic that defeated wizarding wards. Lucius wasn't there.

"Dobby?", Lucius asked as he arrived, the elf waiting outside the entrance to his holt.

"Dobby begs Master Lucius' pardon for the intrusion, but Master says Dobby shall find Master Lucius to bring him to Malfoy Manor".

"Has something happened?", he asked.

"Indeed it has. Master received an owlpost from Master Harry. He said a student was attacked and nearly killed. It was one of Harry's friends".

"Draco?"

"No. The Hufflepuff Seeker. Master Malfoy wants you to come immediately"

"A moment, if you please"

Lucius emptied his pack of a big pile of dead fall he'd spent the morning gathering to replenish his wood pile: fuel for the wood stove. Dobby and Lucius apparated.

 _Malfoy Manor_

"You can understand the urgency", Lucius explained to the other Lucius after he'd read the letter.

"I was under the impression Hogwarts was protected by some of the most formidable wards anyone could cast".

"We all were", Malfoy explained, "obviously, there were holes in that Perimeter, either introduced deliberately, or through incompetence. Minister Bones is of the belief it's the latter, that Dumbledore is losing his touch. This, I do not believe: Dumbledore does nothing through negligence, and everything he does is quite deliberate. If he wanted a cold blooded killer on campus, then it would be so. He would definitely make sure all his tracks were covered to the extent no one could prove anything. He's very good at that, and has had decades worth of experience. Even though I'm on the Board of Governors, I haven't been able to make anything stick, and, believe me, I've tried".

"Why would anyone do such a thing? Surely, this game isn't that important?"

"Quiddich wasn't the reason, it was the cover. Someone on that campus wanted to frame Potter, using his acceptance of Slytherin's Seeker position as a motive. Someone wants to see Potter removed from Hogwarts, and suspicion of attempted murder and a lengthy stay in Azkaban would accomplish that. It was fortunate this attempt failed, that Potter had an alibi, and that he's found favour with Amelia Bones. He may not like it, but his reputation as the Boy Who Lived serves its purpose. I highly doubt that the one who did this is through with attempts to eliminate Potter. That's why I asked you to come, to see if there's anything you and/or Potter's unknown benefactor can do to ensure his safety".

"I'll look into the matter, see what I can turn up..."

"The DMLE didn't find anything".

"Your DMLE doesn't have the advantages that being the apprentice to a Technomage can provide. If it comes down to that, he will intervene directly if he has to. If things look dangerous enough, I'm sure we can persuade Potter's foster parents to remove him from Hogwarts, and England if necessary".

That night, Dobby and Lucius apparated to the dorm: "Master Draco, Dobby asks pardon for the late night interruption".

"Dobby? Lucius?", he asked.

"It's important, otherwise, we wouldn't be here".

"Harry", Draco called out… "HARRY!"

"Uhhhhh… you know what time it is?", Harry complained. He could see it was still quite dark outside, nowhere near to wake-up time. It took awhile before he noticed Draco's unexpected guests.

"Who're you?"

"Dobby, Harry… Harry, Dobby. And Father's partner: Lucius Lutra", Draco introduced.

"So you're an animagus? Haven't met one yet", Harry offered a hand. Lucius took it.

"And you still haven't", Lucius explained. "I'm just what I appear: a river otter".

"Then how do you speak?"

"It's a long story, and maybe I'll tell you some day, but right now we have a serious problem..."

"We certainly do: you woke me up..."

"It concerns you, your friend Cedric, and whether or not you stay at Hogwarts"

That got Harry's attention.

"How do you mean?", Harry asked.

"That I don't know… yet. We have a theory that the attack was meant to get you removed from Hogwarts. What we don't know is who did it and for what purpose. That's why I'm here: to find out".

"But… why? Why would anyone go that far, to kill someone? You know, Cedric nearly died".

"There is one who would have a very powerful motive to see you removed from Hogwarts, if not permanently, then at the very least, for a good long while".

"Who? Snape? I know he's been mighty cold towards me ever since I arrived. Dumbledore?"

"Voldemort"

Lucius recounted the prophecy he'd recovered from the Department of Mysteries, and the Hall of Prophecies.

 _The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches  
Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies  
The Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not  
Either must die at the hands of the other, for neither can live while the other survives  
The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies_

"Hasn't Dumbledore mentioned that prophecy to you?", Lucius asked.

"He hasn't mentioned anything like that. How would he know?"

"Because it was Dumbledore who reported it to the Department of Mysteries. His signature was on the card that accompanied that prophecy".

"So this is why my parents had to die?"

"Yes, it is. Somehow, Voldemort must have learned of that prophecy and come looking to eliminate you".

"From who? Dumbledore?"

"It could have been anyone. Voldemort had agents inside the Ministry. He still does as so many Death Eaters remained, claiming they were under the Imperious Curse, or they bribed officials to look the other way. I wouldn't rule out even Dumbledore. That's one of the things I need to know: just how many know about this prophecy, and is it coming back to bite your ass".

"How will you do that? Amelia Bones and her aurors didn't find anything".

"They don't have the resources I have. I'm going to stay awhile, hang out, see what there is to see".

"How? They'll know".

"No they won't. Being an animal and not human has advantages, and that's one: I don't trip intrusion wards. You know about Notice-me-not and Disillusion charms? No one will know I'm here or what I'm doing. I need to know what Dumbledore is up to".

"Dobby will see if he can enlist Hogwarts house elves to assist Master Lucius. We house elves stick together".

"That would be great, I'm sure house elves know a lot more than anyone suspects. You suspect the Professor?", Harry asked.

"You don't?", Lucius replied.

"I didn't say that, but it's hard to believe Dumbledore, despite whatever his faults, would have anything to do with stunning Cedric during practice".

"He already does. Didn't this attack happen on his watch, and on his campus? Mr Malfoy and I agree: Dumbledore knows more than what he's saying. How much more, that's the question. He is not to be trusted. If push comes to shove, I can't honestly tell you Dumbledore would come to your aid"


	13. The Otter's Investigation

**The Otter's Investigation**

Harry knew there would be precious little sleep for the remainder of the night. He went over the Prophecy he'd just been told about. Could these few lines really have been the reason for the death of his parents? That he was born just as the seventh month dies was a given: a few more hours, and he would have been born on the first of August. That his foster parents wouldn't know understandable. What wasn't understandable was that Dumbledore had deliberately kept this information from him. How is it that neither the Headmaster nor Hagrid saw fit to mention this Prophecy? How is it that Hagrid let him believe that it was the effectiveness of James' and Lily's opposition to the Dark Lord that made them targets? Maybe Hagrid didn't know? One thing was certain: Dumbledore knew – he knew and said _nothing_. What could he do? Confront Dumbledore? He couldn't, not without revealing how he came to know about the prophecy.

Furthermore, what were the consequences of this revelation? If Voldemort was returning, he would seek to finish what he started if he had any reason to believe Harry was the threat this Prophecy claimed. Should he leave Hogwarts? Should he at least appeal to his foster parents to send him abroad? Perhaps Vernon should apply for a transfer to an overseas post? How would he explain it in a compelling enough manner to convince Vernon and Petunia to so uproot their very lives, and how long would it take for any transfer to go through, and what kind of danger would they face while waiting?

What was Dumbledore up to? He was warned not to trust the Headmaster already. The old guy had tried Legilmancy on him once, though he didn't dare try a second time after being shut out. Why would there have been a first time? How is it that the greatest wizard in a century, the victor over the last Dark Lord wannabe, Gellert Grendelwald, could allow unicorn poachers so near the school? That he was so considered was a given: McGonagall, Hagrid, Snape, Pomphery, and every other staff member looked up to him to the point of being fawning acolytes. How could an attempted assassin of a fellow student be allowed to get that close to the Quiddich pitch? He had to have been on the grounds, inside the Perimeter, as Madam Bones already pointed out.

Who then? One of the students? Harry knew little about the internal politics of Hufflepuff. Was there something going on there he'd missed? He doubted that. Someone from some other house, but which one? Ravenclaw? Losing Cedric would definitely help their chances for, if not a Quiddich Cup, at least avoiding the humiliation of finishing dead last. How about Gryffindor? They were already a favorite to win this year's Quiddich Cup. He suspected that Ron Weasley could do something like this, but doubted he'd be smart enough, clever enough, to fool Madam Bones and her aurors. That pretty much applied to any other student, with the possible exception of the pranksters: Fred and George. Would they take a prank that far? He doubted that. So it had to be someone on staff. Then who? McGonagall had too much to lose, Hagrid was denied a wand, otherwise he'd be a likely suspect – the way he knew the Forbidden Forest and his woodcraft skills. Snape: he disliked kids, wasn't a patient teacher, ill suited for his role as Potions Professor, but he didn't seem to have any problems with the Badgers, or Cedric. Perhaps that new guy: Quirrel. Harry already didn't like him much, not from the get-go. There always seemed to be something about him… He was also an ineffective Defense teacher, but how would the serious injury of Cedric further his career at Hogwarts?

 _Hogwarts: The Kitchens_

"Tippy will do what Tippy can for Master Lucius", the house elf promised. Dobby had seen to the introductions.

"Just plain Lucius will do nicely".

"Yes Mas… Lucius".

"What I need is a place to set up, someplace that's unlikely to be discovered".

"Tippy knows just the place. We call it the 'Come and Go' room. All the elves know about it. I'll show you".

"That would be excellent".

"What is it that Lucius seeks?"

"I'll know that when I find it… If there's anything you know, anything you've heard, I'd appreciate hearing about it".

"Tippy has heard that the cleaning crew doesn't like going into Professor Quirrell's quarters. Many bad feelings there, so they get in and out as soon as possible".

"He'd be the Defense teacher?"

"That's the one. Many bad feelings… There's also the sealed corridor on the third floor, east side".

"Do you know why? What's in there?"

"Tippy not know. All elves ordered to stay out, and we can not disobey a direct order. Tippy has heard that sometimes Professor Snape is seen up there, but not doing anything. Does this help?"

"You've been a big help, and at least it's some place to start. Have any idea what happened to Cedric? Heard anything?"

"Tippy not know, other than the Aurors investigated. There are some of us who say it was one of the professors, and not any student, like they've been saying. Most think it was Professor Quirrell".

"Why do you say that?"

"He's the new professor, and every other professor has been here at least for ten years or more. Nothing like this has ever happened here at Hogwarts".

"I see… It wouldn't be just because you don't like him?"

"Oh no, Mas… Lucius. We know all the professors quite well".

"What about Dumbledore?"

"Never! Master Dumbledore loves all his students as if they were his own. He would _never_ hurt a single one for _any_ reason!"

"So I've been told".

"Lucius can believe it! The Headmaster is a great wizard and a great man".

"I hope, for the children's sakes, you are right. About this Come and Go room..."

"Follow me, we'll take the service passages, no one will see".

"You just imagine what you want", Tippy was explaining, "while walking back and forth, saying what you want the room to be". They were in front of an apparently blank wall.

"I need an office to work form", Lucius chanted three times. On the third pass, an oaken double door appeared. He pulled the door open, and inside was a desk and chair his size. He took off his bottomless pack to pull out a lap top, and several other items, completely unfamiliar to the house elf.

"What is all that?", Tippy asked.

"What I need to figure out what's going on. There is one thing you can do for me".

"What does Lucius require?"

"I need you and the other house elves to plant these listening devices in Dumbledore's office and McGonagall's as well. Might as well spread some around the faculty offices..."

"Many pardons, but Tippy can not do that..."

"Oh?"

"Our enchantments will not allow Tippy or any other elf to do anything behind the Headmaster's back".

"Not even to help possibly save Potter's life? The other students? You know what's been happening around here? Can you honestly tell me you trust Dumbledore?"

"It matters not what Tippy thinks".

"And you're just fine with that? Not being able to think for yourself?"

"A house elf's place is to serve and work well. That is what makes Tippy happy".

Lucius sighed: "I won't ask you to do anything that violates your conscience".

"Tippy appreciates… Tippy thinks she has done too much already".

"You're doing the right thing", he reassured.

He, at least, had a couple of good leads: the Defense professor, Quirrel, and the sealed off third floor corridor.

 **0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF**

Since the weather was turning nasty, Harry decided to do some exploring around the castle. He happened on an old storeroom or closet filled with old student desks and chairs piled up haphazardly. At first, this didn't look promising until he spotted an antique mirror against the wall. It stood on two clawed feet, in a fancy guilded frame. Around the arched frame was a bit of what looked like gibberish: "Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi".

Standing in front of the mirror, at first, he saw his reflection and that of the room behind. Then the reflection seemed to fade out, going all watery, and his birth parents replaced the reflection. James and Lily, looking very real and very much alive, were holding and admiring, a less than one year old Harry. Proud new parents doting on their first born. Harry sat down on the floor before the mirror. He decided he could stay here all day and night: this was preferable to the steel skies and harsh winds blowing through the Highlands.

How long he'd been there, he did not know, when he heard a disturbance behind him. Dumbledore stood in the open door. Harry leaped to his feet, but the anger he was expecting wasn't there.

"So this is where you've been hiding", Dumbledore said. "I see you've discovered the Mirror of Erised".

"Mirror of Erised?"

"See here", Dumbledore called his attention to the slogan above the mirror: "I show not your face, but your heart's desire. What is it you desire, Harry?"

"I saw my Mum and Dad – my real Mum and Dad".

"I'm not surprised".

"They looked so real..."

"While it's all well and good to hold onto your desires, it's not so good to dwell on them to to exclusion of everything else", Dumbledore explained. "The Mirror of Erised is a dangerous artifact. There have been those who literally wasted away, staring into that mirror. Others have been driven mad by visions of what they knew could never be.

"Harry, there is no form of magic that can bring them back, I'm afraid. Going down that path can lead only to darkness. I will have to look into having it moved to safer storage. Come, Harry", he held out a hand to lead him away. "In the mean time, promise me you won't look into the mirror".

Harry could see his point: "I won't, and thanks for the warning… Professor, what do you see in the mirror?"

"At my age, there isn't much left for me to desire. What I see is myself wearing woolen socks that can keep these old feet warm in the winter".

Lucius, concealed behind Notice-Me-Not and Dissillusion charms, quickly caught up with his first subject. Professor Quirrel. He began running a scan with one of his technomagical devices. He should not have known, but as he was going down a long hallway, alone, he sensed something. Quirrel whipped out his wand:

"Homenum Revelio!", he cast the spell that would strip anyone of concealment charms.

Nothing happened, surprising the turban wearing professor. He was sure… Lucius got out of there before he might try something that would work. That was unexpected; he must have some formidable magic at his disposal, more than he was letting on…

Dumbledore's office complex was going to be a lot more difficult. Dumbledore's pet, Fawkes, was a phoenix, and phoenix magic was both powerful and little understood. He knew that more than likely he wouldn't be able to conceal himself. It would do no good to discuss with the phoenix, even in Beast Tongue, as, if he bound himself to Dumbledore, his loyalty would be unshakable. Such is the nature of phoenixes.

All he learned from Filius Flitwick was that the faculty adviser of Ravneclaw harbored no ill will towards Harry for poaching one of his higher achieving students. If Flitwick had any suspicions concerning his Headmaster, he left no evidence of that in his office.

Lucius stood outside the door blocking off the rest of the third floor corridor. His scan revealed that what was behind that door had had extensive magical reconfiguration. The ordeals leading forward didn't appear to be all that formidable…

"This can't be", he said to himself. "No one ever..." Yet, there was no error, the same results came back after rerunning the scan. "The damn fool didn't send it to Gringott's?"

This made it more imperative than ever, that he get into Dumbledore's office complex, phoenix or no phoenix.

 _31 October: Charms  
_

"No, Ron, not like that", Hermione was explaining. "It's Wing _Gar_ dium _Lev_ iosa. Your pronunciation is all off..."

"Who the _fuck_ asked you?!", Ron snapped at her. "You big city mudbloods think you know everything..."

He was having considerable trouble, getting his feather to levitate even a little. Everyone else had accomplished this assignment.

"I wasn't making fun..."

"The _hell_ you weren't! I didn't _ask_ for your help. I don't _want_ your help, so why don't you fuck off Little Miss Question-all? I'm sure we country bumpkins can manage without you and your big city ways"

This sent Hermione fleeing the class in tears. Ron received a sharp rebuke for his outburst, and lost Gryffindor another ten points.

 _Great Hall_

The feast of the High Sabbat of Samhein was well under way in the Great Hall. The entire hall decorated in a manner befitting the holiday. The festivities were interrupted. Quirrel burst through the doors,

"MOUNTAIN TROLL IN THE CASTLE!", he called out. "FIRST FLOOR!"

"EVERYONE, REMAIN CALM", Dumbledore called out over the developing pandemonium. "PREFECTS: ESCORT YOUR HOUSE MATES TO THEIR DORMS IN A CALM, ORDERLY MANNER"

"But Professor", Hannah Abbot called from the Hufflepuff table, "Slytherin's dorms are in the dungeons..."

"Quite right", Dumbledore had to concede. "IN THAT CASE, REMAIN WHERE YOU ARE UNTIL YOU RECEIVE FURTHER INSTRUCTIONS"

"WAIT!", Ron called out, "HERMIONE'S NOT HERE!"

"NEITHER IS HARRY", Draco added.

"PROFESSOR MCGONAGALL, I, AND THE OTHER HEADS OF HOUSE SHALL INVESTIGATE. EVERYONE: PLEASE REMAIN HERE IN THE GREAT HALL. WE DON'T NEED OTHER STUDENTS WANDERING THE HALLS, MAYBE PUTTING THEMSELVES IN DANGER"

After exiting the Great Hall, Dumbledore placed a locking charm on it to keep any threats out, and the students in.

Harry was keeping to himself, down on the first floor. Perhaps he should go to the Common Room? That was no good, seeing no one would be there. The Common Room, empty, would only magnify his sense of loneliness. Still, being surrounded by all that cheerfulness up in the Great Hall was equally uncomfortable. He hard a scream.

He quickly followed it to a girls' lavatory. Inside, Hermione was curled up in a corner, as a ten foot tall mountain troll smashed a wooden stall to tooth picks. It raged, smashing a sink with a heavy club. Bits of porcelain flew like shrapnel; water poured onto the floor from broken pipes. As it advanced on the defenseless girl, trying to figure out how to get to her, Harry pulled out his special wand.

"Crucio!", he cast the Unforgivable – the torture curse. This got the troll's attention, but did little else. Harry remembered: these Unforgivables required a special sort of hate, and the Cruciatus a certain sadism. The thought of seeing Hermione die at the hands of this sub-sapient animal was all he needed to make himself enjoy the torture.

"Crucio!", he tried again, this time, dropping the troll to hands and knees. He lost the club.

"Wingardium leviosa!", he sent the club to the top of the high ceiling and dropped it onto the troll's head, his own club knocking him out.

He barely had time to return the wand to its special holster as Dumbledore, McGonagall, Snape, Flitwick, Sprout, Pomphrey and Filch were arriving.

"Mr Potter?!", McGonagall started, "what were..."

"Not now. I'll answer all your questions after I've seen to Hermione", he cut her off.

She was probably going into shock, and had peed herself. Harry picked her up and headed for the door, and the infirmary. They followed.

"Bring her here", Pomphrey offered a bed.

"Out, out ,out – all of you", she ordered. She drew the privacy curtain around the bed.

"Mr Potter, why weren't you at the feast?", McGonagall asked.

"I would rather ask how that beast got inside the castle..."

"Pot-ter!", Snape started, "respect..."

"In the first place, yes, I know it's the High Sabbat, but this is also the tenth anniversary of my parents' murders, so you can understand why I'm not feeling particularly festive. I went to the first floor to be by myself.

"I'd still like to know how a mountain troll gets through the Perimeter and inside the castle to threaten harm to a student. Hermione could have _died_. Isn't that just a bit more of a concern than a few harsh words to a professor?", he addressed that to Snape.

"Severus, he's right and I would suggest over looking his conduct", Dumbledore said. "I assure you: I'll have Professor Quirrel looking into the matter", he said to Harry. "He's our resident expert on mountain troll behaviour. I'm sure he'll get to the bottom of this incident so it won't happen again".

"Fine", Harry said flatly.

Dumbledore didn't like the tone with which Harry said it: he wasn't being believed here.

"How were you able to stop that troll?"

"I give all the credit to Professor Flitwick and his instruction in the levitation charm. I used the Wingardium leviosa to bean him with his own club".

"And I am grateful for having an outstanding student and a fast learner", Flitwick agreed. "Twenty points for Slytherin".

"For Harry's courage and quick thinking, I think 100 points for Slytherin", Dumbledore added.

"The boy wasn't where he was supposed to be", Filch objected.

"I believe, given the circumstances, we can over look any rules violations in this matter", Dumbledore disagreed.

"That still leaves the girl..."

"I think Miss Granger has suffered enough", Dumbledore said. Lets us leave Miss Granger to recover, and return to the feast now that we have something important to celebrate"

Harry would have suggested a call to Madam Bones, except that he'd cast another Unforgivable. He didn't need Madam Bones inquiring into too many details as to how he got the drop on a mountain troll.

Lucius let himself into Dumbledore's office complex during all the confusion. He saw that Fawkes was a very old bird. All he could do was squawk at the intrusion, little more. Lucius figured he was days away from spontaneous combustion.

He found Dumbledore's financial records, and looked on in disgust at what he saw as he photographed every document. This explained the mystery of how Author Weasley was able to send all his kids to Hogwart's. Usually a family in the Weasleys' financial straits would send their oldest male child to Hogwart's; the unfavoured sibs would have to content themselves with a day school lacking any sort of prestige, and an inferior education into wizarding ways.

He now knew why the special artifact was here at Hogwart's and not Gringott's: the goblins refused to do business with him, and all school accounts were in McGonagall's name. It takes a special kind of fucked up to have the goblins turn down any paying customer. If knowledge of this got out, what would that do to the reputation of the Chief Warlock and Supreme Mugwump?


	14. Remus Lupin

**Remus Lupin**

 _Room of Requirement:_

Lucius was monitoring the listening device he planted in Quirrel's quarters. So far, none of the others revealed much of anything.

" _I know someone was watching", an unfamiliar voice was saying._

" _If there was, the Revelio would have..."_

" _That is not what I'm talking about you fool! We have an infiltrator, of that I am certain. I sense it. Fortunately, I have a good idea as to where he may be hiding"._

" _Maybe if I mention it to Dumbledore..."_

" _You must avoid Dumbledore at all cost. If we are discovered, he is the one who would be the most likely. Need I remind you of the consequences if we fail to recover the artifact? You must not call undue attention to our activities, or you lose everything"._

" _I understand that, and I won't fail you"._

" _I have no use for those who fail me"._

Lucius didn't need to have that explained to him. He gathered up everything, stuffing it all back into his bottomless pack, and left the "Come and Go" room. At least, the room would not reveal his hidden office were he no longer there.

 _Great Hall:_

Dumbledore was at the podium: "It is with great pleasure that we welcome back Cedric Diggory...":

There was applause, as Cedric acknowledged his greeting with a wave.

"…there will be a long road to full recovery, so let us wish him our best".

Cedric struggled to his feet, supported by a walking stick: "It was a bit of touch and go, but it looks like I will be back next year, so you're forewarned: next year that Quiddich Cup belongs to Hufflepuff".

The Hufflepuffs cheered their Seeker in agreement.

Cedric struggled to the Slytherin table: "Harry", he offered his free hand, "I know you didn't have anything to do with it… Not you or your team mates".

He'd heard all about the ugly rumours.

"We Slytherins appreciate your vote of confidence", Harry said. Hopefully, this would end all those nasty rumours the other House mates were spreading about Slytherin. "i'm looking forward to matching wits with your and your team".

More applause, more well wishes from around the tables. A tragedy avoided, but justice no closer to being served. Dumbledore, at Harry's insistence, didn't mention last night's events with the troll. He didn't want to steal any thunder from Cedric, and more importantly, he didn't want anyone dwelling on it, to perhaps ask inconvenient questions as to how he got the drop on a troll.

The first of November saw a heavy snow fall: the Highland winter had arrived in earnest. The older students knew what that meant: the beginning of that long drag to Christmas break. Harry and the other Firsties were about to learn the meaning of "cabin fever".

That evening, right after lights out, Lucius paid the dorm a visit.

"Lucius?", Harry asked.

"I am leaving Hogwarts this evening".

"So you completed your investigation?" Draco asked. "Learn anything?"

"More than I cared to, less than I needed to".

"What's that supposed to mean?", Harry asked. The otter had a habit of speaking in enigmas every now and then. "You could stay here in our dorm, work out of here".

"There is an infiltrator, and I could be putting the both of you at risk by staying here", with that, he played back the audio of the conversation he recorded in Quirrel's quarters.

"Know who?"

"That, I do not know, but it's looking very much like he can come and go at will, Perimeter or no Perimeter. Either the wards have a serious defect that's escaped your Headmaster's attention, or Quirrel has more abilities than anyone rightly suspects, even your Headmaster. If that's the case, I have no way to know the limitations of his powers, no guarantee my defenses won't be compromised or how soon that might occur".

"Or whoever our mystery voice belongs to is always here", Harry added. "Is the Professor in on it… whatever it may be?"

"I doubt it, you heard for yourselves: whoever is giving Quirrel his marching orders, he fears Dumbledore. As for your suggestion, the only way that could be possible is if Quirrel is possessed. I tried a scan, but was too quickly detected before I could complete it. My methods go beyond the capabilities of even the best magi who rely solely on their magic. It is possible that Quirrel is able to slip by, unnoticed, as a possessed individual without alerting the wards, or bringing down suspicion of even your Headmaster despite his considerable abilities as a magician. I'd say that possession is a very real possibility, and that makes Quirrel even more dangerous. He could be acting without even knowing what he's doing".

"Like stunning Diggory? The aurors didn't find out anything".

"It's a very real possibility. If he did, and didn't know it then his denial would be the truth, even under Veritas".

"Then Father was right: Dumbledumbass _is_ an incompetent old fool", Draco said.

"No, Draco, he isn't. Don't allow your father's opinion to colour your judgment. Dumbledore may be a lot of things, but foolish and stupid aren't among his character defects. I don't know exactly what he's planning, but I do know this: he is not working for Voldemort in any way. As for his real plans, I would have liked to stay longer, but that is no longer possible. It would seem the Come and Go Room isn't the secret I was led to believe. Either Quirrel or this partner of his is sure to inspect the Room soon if they haven't already. I could not be there, as he would discover the Room was already in use, and he would certainly want to know why.

"I also know what Dumbledore is so eager to protect up there on the third floor. Somehow, he has acquired a Philosopher's Stone… or at least what he believes to be a Philosopher's Stone".

"How could he? Isn't that a myth?", Harry asked.

"I thought so too, so do a great many folks. So far, no one has produced a genuine example. That doesn't mean it's not possible. Dumbledore has a friend, Nicholas Flammel – or at least that's the alias he's currently using – who created or discovered it. He is supposed to have used the Stone to keep himself and his wife alive for over 600 years. Every century or so, he creates a new identity and the old one "dies". Flammel entrusted the Stone to Dumbledore for safe keeping, as he believed someone had discovered his secret, and was attempting to steal the Stone for himself. Voldemort would surely find a Philosopher's Stone most useful indeed if he intends to reincarnate himself".

"Then why didn't he send it to Gringott's?", Draco asked.

"He couldn't as the goblins won't do business with him. Too many dirty dealings, apparently. I will have to look deeper into his financial records. The whole matter somehow involves Harry here".

"How? What did he do?"

"I can't say just now. It's not that I won't, I'm not being like Dumbledore, but you will have to trust me for now, but I assure you, you will know everything when the time is right.

"For now know this: this Quirrel is a dangerous character that hides behind a mask of of incompetence and buffoonery. I would suggest dropping his class; ask Dumbledore to excuse you. I suspect he won't put up much of an argument".

"I could see what Father can do for us", Draco suggested.

"Just make sure you play up what you believe is Quirrel's inadequacies as a professor, not that you have other, darker, suspicions. Based on how Quirrel is managing his class, that will be believed. You never know how secure Hogwarts owl network really is, especially during these times".

"Will I see you again?", Harry asked.

"Oh yes you will, but not probably before you leave Hogwarts. Before I go", he dug into his pack.

"I'm leaving this in your care", as he handed over something tech. "I left the listening device in Quirrel's quarters. I highly doubt he'll discover it, and even if he does, he likely won't understand what it is or how it works. You can listen in on whatever his latest schemes may be. Just be sure to avoid him, and whoever he's working for".

"Thanks".

"I'll be seeing you soon".

Lucius aparrated from Hogwarts.

"So what do we do now?"

"Ask to see Dumbledore, and get excused from DADA. Keep as low a profile as possible until the break. Hopefully, we'll have something more we can work with".

Since tomorrow was Saturday, they wouldn't be able to see McGonagall until after Transfiguration. Some of the kids were out romping in the snow, sliding or snow ball fights. Harry retired to the library where it was at least warm. Predictably enough, Hermione joined him.

"I just wanted to say 'Thanks' for rescuing me..."

"You're quite welcome"

"Ummmm… Harry? You cast another Unforgivable..."

The head librarian came by to shush them as she was a bit O/C about that.

"C'mon", he motioned to leave.

They went to am unoccupied classroom nearby.

" _How_ do you know those curses?", she asked. "You aren't supposed to _know_ them, let alone _do_ them".

"You know them".

"I know _about_ them, and I know enough to know you shouldn't be _doing_ them!"

"Not even to save your life? Not gonna stand around, casting useless spells at a troll that's hell bent on bashing your brains out when I know how to stop it. What spells were you using before I saw you in that bathroom? Did they work?"

"It's still forbidden… you could get in great trouble..."

"Defending innocent life? I don't think so..."

"It's still dark magic, and you shouldn't even be fooling around with anything like that".

"The magic isn't dark, only how you use it".

"Now you sound like a Slytherin, Harry".

"Aside from the fact that I am in Slytherin, I'm not seeing the point here. I'm not going to let harm come my friends' ways if I can do anything about it. You may question my methods, but not my resolve: I have no intention of ever aligning with any dark lord wannabes. Not Gonna. Happen. You can take that to Gringott's".

"You still haven't explained how you know".

"I would if I could, but I made a promise even before we met. I can't betray a confidence. I can guarantee no one will find out", he took out his special wand.

"Where'd you get this?"

"Not from Ollivander's. It doesn't keep records and doesn't inform the Ministry. That's really how I learned to cast, and why Bones and her aurors didn't know. I assume I can count on your discretion?"

"Of course. But… _why_?"

"There are certain someones' with a good reason to believe I'd need it here at Hogwarts".

"The Professor: go to him..."

"You can't trust Dumbledore..."

"He's a great wizard and a great man. If there's anyone you _can_ trust, it's him".

"I wouldn't be too sure about that. We have unicorn poachers operating in the forest, and you know what happened to Cedric? As if that wasn't bad enough, we just had a mountain troll running amok right here in the castle endangering the lives of everyone here. How did that happen? It's obvious the wards aren't as secure as we're led to believe. That can happen in one of two ways: incompetence, or by design.

"There's something going on here, and at the very least, Dumbledore's as much in the dark as I am. And if he's not, then he's part of it, either actively, or someone's put one over on him. How could a 'great wizard' (finger quotes) let shit like this happen on his watch, under his nose, at his school? Set aside the hero worship and blind trust in 'authorities' for a moment before giving yourself an answer.

"How about let's get us some fresh air? I know Hedwig could use some, and this old castle is plenty cold and drafty. If we're going to be cold, best to be outdoors. It'd do you some good too, getting some sunlight. There is one thing you could do for me..."

 **0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF**

"What is it, Mr. Potter?"

"I would like to see the Headmaster. I'll be needing an excused absence slip, preferably during Potions, and I figured you could arrange an appointment, Headmistress".

"I see, and what would this meeting be about?"

"I would like to discuss transferring out of DADA".

"I will arrange an appointment, though I question if he will permit it".

"Thank you, and that's all I ask: a chance to make my case".

As Harry was headed for Potions, Professor Snape was waiting just outside the classroom.

"It would seem we won't be graced with your presence", as he held out the slip. "The Headmaster has informed me your presence is requested in his office".

As Harry reached for the permission slip, Snape pulled it back: "However", he continued, "this does not excuse you from today's lesson, and I expect you will do extra homework to make up".

"Certainly, Professor, I won't let you down".

"See that you don't, Mr Pot-ter".

Harry made his way, past a disappointed Filch, who was hoping he'd caught a student out of class, and to the gargoyle standing guard over the spiral stairs.

"Lemon drops", he gave the password. The gargoyle slid aside to reveal the ever upward spirling stairs.

He let the heavy gryphon door knocker down with a light tap. The thing was so heavy that letting it drop from much of a height would sound like a rifle shot.

"Come in, Harry", he heard Dumbledore call. He stepped into the office; Dumbledore was behind his desk, elevated above the rest of the floor, and up the short stairway.

"Lemon drop?", Dumbledore offered.

"Thanks, but no thanks. Don't want to spoil my supper", Harry declined, and hoped he didn't run out of excuses for always declining Dumbledore's questionable lemon drops.

"Quite", Dumbledore said as he helped himself. "What is it you require?"

"I would like to be excused from Defense".

"I see… And why would you want that?"

"It's Quirrel..."

" _Professor_ Quirrel", Dumbledore corrected.

"Professor Quirrel. It's that I find his lessons to be inadequate".

"I can assure you, the Professor is quite qualified as an instructor".

"With all due respect, Professor, have you audited his class? He doesn't really teach anything… all he does is brag about his exploits during last year's adventures. It's all fascinating, though doesn't really tell us anything about actual defense against the dark arts".

"I'm afraid Defense is a required subject, and this being your first year, there are no electives. That comes much later, Harry"

"Is it not permitted by the Bylaws that students may take lessons from tutors?" Harry had learned of this from Hermione and her research.

"That is quite true. I see you've been visiting the library again, or perhaps Miss Granger has?"

"In that case, I would like to hire my own tutor for DADA, and I would like Draco to join me".

"Mr Malfoy feels the same?"

"He… we do, Professor".

"You would see to this tutor's compensation?"

"I would, that's why I have an educational trust fund".

"I will permit it, but under one condition: I select this tutor".

Harry didn't like the sound of that, but if it got him away from Quirrel…

"That's agreeable, Professor".

"I have someone in mind: his name's Remus Lupin. You'll like him, and he was an old friend of James'. He'll owl you the details within a day or two".

"Thank you, Professor".

"Be off with you, you don't want to be late for class".

"No, Professor", Harry tool his leave. That was Dumbledore's stock dismissal, even though Potions was the last class of the day.

That meeting confirmed everything Lucius Lutra had said. Dumbledore didn't put up much of an argument. The only question was if this Lupin was a better choice than Quirrel? Maybe he and Draco might actually learn something?

 _Dear Harry:_

 _It was with great pleasure that I received Professor Dumbledore's letter requesting that I tutor you in Defense. If you didn't know already, I was a close friend of your father, James. I am so looking forward to seeing you after all these years._

 _I was quite frankly shocked to learn you were sorted into Slytherin, and that you are friends with Lucius Malfoy's son Draco. There was some less than pleasant history there. We can begin your lessons in two days._

 _Sincerely,_

 _Remus Lupin_

Saturday dawned clear and crisp, good Quiddich weather for the delayed kick off to the year's competition for the Quiddich Cup. The first match being Team Slytherin v. Team Ravenclaw. Despite the cold, the stands were full, warming charms increasing comfort. The game announcer this time was Lee Jordan. As the teams assembled in the center of the pitch awaiting the release of the balls, Harry stepped forward to extend a hand to the Ravenclaw Seeker: Cho Chang. It was an awkward moment.

"Good game, and may the best team win", Harry offered.

Cho didn't know what to do, caught off guard, as this had never happened before. It was usual for both teams to just glare daggers at each other. Adding to the awkwardness of the situation was that incident in the hallway with Luna.

"Uhhhh… you too", Cho said as she finally took his hand.

Next, Harry turned to Madam Hooch.

"Thank you for taking the time to referee. Without you, we wouldn't have a game".

This, too, had never happened before. The only comments usually addressed to Madam Hooch were arguments and curses over disputed rulings.

"You're most welcome, Mr Potter", she replied.

"Hell you think you're doin'?", the Slytherin Captain, Marcus Flint, objected.

"Practicing good sportsmanship", Harry explained. "You might try it yourself".

"C'MON, GET THE GAME GOIN'!", someone called from the stands.

Madam Hooch released the balls, and off the players went.

Harry's first play was to intercept the quaffle and fly towards the Ravenclaw goals. Just outside the scoring zone, he faked a throw. The Ravenclaw Keeper, forgetting that Seekers couldn't score goals, shot towards the left most goal. Harry backhanded the quaffle to Millicent, who had an easy shot at the now open goals.

"Slytherin scores!", Lee called out, "and a magnificent fake-out from Potter".

Harry was shadowing Chang when he suddenly shot ahead of her and dived for the pitch. Chang, thinking he had spotted the Snitch, followed. Harry swooped up at the last second. Chang tried to pull up, but was a moment too late as she landed face first in the snow covering the pitch. She rolled and though not hurt, this delayed the Ravenclaw Seeker, and distracted the other Ravenclaws, allowing Slytherin another goal.

"I don't believe it!", Jordan called out. "An honest to Merlin Wronsky Feint! And from a novice Seeker at that!".

Suddenly, Harry's broom started acting as though it were trying to buck him off.

"Potter's in trouble!", Lee announced.

Harry figured there was some sort of magical interference, but he still had his special wand.

"Finite!", he cast the spell neutralizing charm.

The relief was temporary and brief.

"Looks like Potter's back in control", Lee announced, "wait a minute..."

Harry wasn't the only one suspecting foul play. Hermione was scanning the stands through her glasses. She spotted Filius Flitwick seemingly muttering to himself. She took off behind the stands. It was easy sneaking over to where the Ravenclaws had congregated. She did the only thing she could think of: set Flitwick's robes alight.

As she slipped out of sight, she was relieved to see that Harry's broom wasn't trying to throw him off, and he looked to be OK.

Slytherin won this match, as expected, after Harry caught the Snitch.

"Hell do you think you were doin' up there!", Marcus was dressing down his Seeker after the match. "You _almost_ ran right into Zambini!".

"I don't know, but it wasn't my doing", Harry explained himself. "Someone was interfering with my broom. I had to use the Finite or I would have crashed, and taken out who knows how many players..."

"You expect me to believe that! Do you have any idea what kind of magic it takes to take a broom from the rider's control?!"

"I do because it's the truth. I brought along my wand, just in case. After what happened to Cedric, well, I wasn't about to let anything like that happen to me".

"And what makes you think you're so damn special..."

"I can't answer that, but something isn't right ever since I started Hogwarts. You can either believe me or not. Cut me from the team if you think that's the right thing to do. I'll thank you for an enjoyable game. Or you can take my word as the truth: your choice".

"Mister Pot-ter!", Snape had arrived. "What did I tell you about trying my patience?"

Harry went through the whole story again for his head of house.

"I find that hard to believe", Snape replied.

"You no more than I. I can't explain it. After all, it's a school game, not like anyone would have a lot of money riding on Ravenclaw. I can't think of anyone who'd benefit. As I explained to Marcus, you can believe me or not".

"Trouble seems to follow you like a faithful puppy, Mister Pot-ter".

"Believe me, Professor, it's not my preference either".

"Hummmmm...", was all Snape had to say about that.

Harry was fortunate in that he wasn't booted from the team, nor did he receive the expected detention from Snape.

Hermione was waiting as he exited the locker room.

"Harry, I have something important to tell you", she explained.

"What would that be?", he asked.

"A word in private".

"Catch up with you later", Harry called to his team mates.

"What's up?", he asked as soon as they were out of sight.

"About the game… it was Professor Flitwick".

"You're shitting me, right?"

"I wish I was..."

Hermione explained what she witnessed, what she did. Harry had to agree it looked bad, especially since the attacks stopped after she set Flitwick's robe on fire.

"But… _why_?!", he asked.

"You did steal Luna from Ravenclaw"

"That couldn't have anything to do with it. Flitwick doesn't hold that grudge".

"How can you be so sure?"

"I have it on the best of authorities: Flitwick doesn't hold me responsible for that. He knows who chased Luna from Ravenclaw".

"What authority?", she asked.

"I wish I could tell you, but I can't. Something is definitely amiss here, but Flitwick isn't a part of it. Outside of Charms, I haven't had much dealings with him. Hell, if it were anyone, I'd be more inclined to suspect Snape. He's been very cool towards me, and I expect he'd be much worse had I been sorted into Gryffindor".

"If it wasn't him… then who?"

"That new guy: Quirrel. There's something definitely off with that guy. Besides, who else? Every other professor has been here for _years._ What would they have to gain? Not even Filch, even if he wasn't a squib, wouldn't have any reason to pull something like this.

"As for Quirrel, I'd stay the hell away from him if I were you. I've arranged for a private tutor in Defense, maybe you should join us?"

Hermione vaguely recalled running into Quirrel when she was on her way to stop Flitwick. If she made him break eye contact…

"I just night take you up on that offer".

 **0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF**

"I wasn't expecting so many", Lupin was saying, "I thought I'd be teaching just Harry".

Remus Lupin looked every bit the professor, tall, thin, nattily dressed, and with salt and pepper hair.

"I couldn't not invite my friends", Harry explained. "I'd like for you to meet: Hermione Granger..."

"Pleasure's mine", she replied.

"And Draco Malfoy..."

"Your father and I attended Hogwarts together". As for the rest of that history, the less said, the better.

"I think he mentioned that a time or two", Draco also knew how to be diplomatic.

"And Neville Longbottom..."

"I knew your parents quite well. My condolences".

"Thanks".

"And Luna Lovegood..."

"Happy to meet you", Lupin replied, as he didn't know Xeno from his Hogwarts days.

"And Pansy Parkinson..."

"Pansy", Remus replied.

He was wondering how Harry had managed to become associated with someone like that. He was well aware of what her father had done, what he may still be doing.

"If it's a problem", Harry explained, "we will all chip in for your tuition. We all would like the kind of instruction we're not getting from that new DADA professor".

"I'll take you up on that offer", Lupin explained. "Times've been pretty tough. Now where did you want to start?"

"How about what every Firstie should be learning", Draco called out.

"I was thinking dueling", Harry said.

"But, why? You know dueling isn't legal".

"It is on the Continent", Harry countered. "There is more to learning how to take care of yourself with a wand than challenging everyone to a duel for slights, real or imagined".

"It's something I believe I need to know. Let's just say Hogwarts isn't your - or my parents' - Hogwarts".

"How do you mean? Professor Dumbledore has always been an excellent, caring Headmaster".

"I wish I could explain it better, but I can't. Please".

"Very well then, dueling it is".

"Harry, a word?", Lupin requested after his lesson.

"Yes, Professor"

"There's no need to be so formal, Remus or Lupin will do nicely. If you didn't know, I knew your parents quite well while we were attending. We had a gang of sorts, the Marauders, we called ourselves".

"Aunt Petunia mentioned that".

"Did she now? I wasn't expecting..."

"Why would you think that? My mother was her sister, after all?"

"It's... nothing. I thought I'd mention it in case… Anyway, how did you wind up in Slytherin? I thought you'd follow your parents into Gryffindor?"

"I get asked that a lot. That's just where that Hat thought I'd do best. As for all that bullshit about Houses, I never really cared all that much. I have friends in Gryffindor and Ravenclaw. Hufflepuff, not so much: they seem to stick together more than most. I suppose it has to do with everyone else saying Hufflepuff is the loser's House. Hogwarts could do away with the Houses for all I care. That would probably be for the best".

"Not expecting you to say that".

"I suppose it goes along with my muggle upbringing. None of those schools had Houses, and certainly didn't encourage those rivalries and in-school tribalism. So you knew my folks?"

"James... the stunts he'd pull", Lupin looked off into the distance, or backwards in time. "He and Sirius, especially. Me? Not so much. Good times... has it really been that long? I mean, look at you, how've you grown.

"You remind me of James, but you have your mother's eyes".

"You aren't the first to say that".

"It's true, and everyone can see that".

"I thought there was a war on?"

"Indeed there was, but it wasn't all unpleasantness. During times of sorrow, you need to find some happiness".

Harry got the impression Lupin actually missed the excitement of his youth.

"If you were so close to my folks, then how come you never bothered to visit?"

"I wanted to; I would sometimes stop by Privet Drive, to see you…"

"Then _why_ didn't you, if you were that close to my parents. Didn't it occur to you I might want to ask about them?"

"It was the Professor's idea..."

"You mean Dumbledore?"

"Yes, Professor Dumbledore warned me to stay away, to not interfere. He said it was essential for your well being, not disturbing the blood ward your mother's sacrifice created. That's why he placed you with your Aunt Petunia - Lily's closest living relative".

Dumbledore, again, interfering with his life: unasked at that, Harry thought. Where did he get the idea he could make these kinds of decisions for him? More importantly, why?

"There's something I'd like to show you", Lupin brought out a sheet of parchment, just a plain old sheet of paper.

"Not very impressive", Harry said. Lupin wasn't going to tell him any more, and obviously wanted to change the subject. He thought it might be a document that would shed some light on his parents' history.

"It is when you do this", Lupin took out his wand. "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good".

The page began to transform, something like a splash screen as a program started, appeared.

 _Messrs. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs, purveyors of aids to magical mischief-makers, are proud to present the Marauder's Map_

The Marauder's Map displayed the entire floor plan of Hogwarts. Dots with names next to them tracked the movements of everyone inside the castle, and the surrounding grounds.

"Padfoot was Sirius, Prongs was James, Worm Tail Peter Pettigrew, and I was Mooney. Back then, we all transformed ourselves into animagi. Padfoot was a dog, and Prongs a stag. Peter, being a rat, well, you can see how his nick fits. "We made this map to better get away with our pranks..."

"Three of you named yourselves after animals, so how does 'Mooney' fit in?"

"Now that, Harry, is a long story for another time and place _"._

"I can see how that could be useful to pranksters", Harry agreed. "Best keep this well away from the Twins..."

"Twins?"

"Yeah, George and Fred Weasley. They think they're following in the footsteps of the Marauders, but not understanding why they needed to prank Death Eater wannabes".

"I'm afraid we weren't always so high-minded, Harry. Sirius and James - James especially - couldn't resist tormenting poor Snivelus..."

"Who?"

"That would be Professor Snape to you. James just took a dislike to Severus, hell, I don't think even he knew why. There was his fascination with black magic, and his likely recruitment into Voldemort's ranks, maybe some jealousy for Lily... Maybe I should have spoken up back then... But kids, friendships, we weren't as mature as when we all grew up, maybe a bit faster than we should have, considering...

"Anyway, I wanted you to have it".

Lupin took out his wand again, pointed it at the Map: "Mischief managed" This was the counter spell that hid the map from view.

"Just promise me you won't go getting yourself in trouble by pranking..."

"You needn't worry about that. I disapprove of the Twins' pranks and said so to their faces. I don't find it the least bit funny… One last thing".

"Yes?"

"Sirius: did he betray my parents?"

"I...don't know. He was James' and Lily's original secret keeper, but he transferred that responsibility to Peter. Dumbledore suggested it as Voldemort was really putting on the pressure. Petigrew was less well known. The way I heard it was that Pettigrew tracked Sirius to London, confronted him, and Sirius let loose a spell that caused an explosion that cost a dozen muggles their lives. All the aurors found of Pettigrew was a finger. Of course, Sirius told a different story. He's still in Azkaban, so there's that to consider".

"He didn't receive his day in court either".

"There's that too. We were all so close, I hate the thought that one of us betrayed your parents to Voldemort, but it is what it is".

Maybe this Lupin was OK, despite being Dumbledore's man. Maybe he'd inadvertently just given Harry something he could use as more than a keepsake from his birth parents? Or maybe not? The Marauder's Map would definitely prove useful for avoiding Quirrel, in case he got too curious as to why his class had thinned out.

 **0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF**

Harry, Hermione, Ron, and Neville assembled at Hagrid's cabin. His dragon egg finally hatched.

"Not as big as I expected", Ron said. The small dragon was sitting on Hagrid's main table. Ron reached out towards the animal.

"OW! DAMMIT!" he called out as a thin flame licked his finger.

"Ye needs ter be keerful, Ron", Hagrid explained. "Doan be start'lin 'em, an dragons not be the cuddly type of critters".

"Now you tell me", Ron said as he rubbed his finger.

"So what is he?", Hermione asked.

"You don't know?", Neville asked. It wasn't often when Hermione couldn't come up with an answer.

"Well, Nev, magical creatures isn't something I studied in too much depth. We take that class next year", she explained.

"Looks ter be uh Nerrwegian Ridgeback", Hagrid answered.

"Hell'd you come by a dragon?", Neville asked.

Hagrid told him the tale of the mysterious visitor to the Three Broomsticks.

"You know you can't keep it", Harry said.

"Akshully, his name is Norbert", Hagrid corrected.

"Still, Norbert's not going to stay that small forever, and you do live in a cabin that's mostly wood", Harry pointed out. "Where will you live, how will you explain when the cabin goes up in flames? You said it yourself: dragons don't make good pets".

"Yer rye Harry".

"Charlie works at a dragon preserve in Romania", Ron offered a suggestion.

"Think he'd help?"

"I don't see why not".

"Ahm sure gonna miss ter lit'le guy", Hagrid said.

"I'll work something out", Harry promised. "Ron, if you could get an owl off to your brother".

The next day Harry intercepted the Twins after breakfast. "Fred, George..."

"Harry"

They hadn't spoken much after the dressing down Harry gave them.

"I need your sort of expertise, a prank of sorts".

"You, Harry, I thought you didn't approve", George told him.

"It's not against any students, and won't hurt anyone. If you can pull it off, it will prevent harm from coming to someone close. Ask Ron, he'll tell you".

"And I suppose there's a catch?", Fred asked, suspicious.

"Yes, there is", Harry explained, "no one must know about it, and especially not who was behind it".

"You have a lot to learn...", George started.

"...half the fun of a good prank is that everyone knows who did it, but they can't prove it", Fred finished that thought.

"I did say there was a catch. Ask Ron all about it, better you hear it from him than me".

"He got Ronniekins involved in a prank? On us?"

"If he did, little brother will find life at the Burrow, ummmm, interesting"

 **0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF**

"Draco!", Harry called out.

"Sup?"

They were in their dorm. "Our 'friend' (finger quotes) is back".

 _"How is it that you are losing so many students?"_ , the unknown visitor was asking Quirrel.

 _"I assure you: it wasn't anything I did. Dumbledore explained that Harry, Draco, and some of their friends would like a private tutor"._

 _"You did nothing to stop them?"_

 _"There's nothing I could have done. Hogwarts bylaws allow it, with parental permission, of course"._

 _"You could not persuade Dumbledore?"_

 _"I tried..."_

 _"I didn't ask bout trying. I don't need trying; I demand success. Need I remind you of the cost of failure?"_

 _"Please Master..."_

 _"I needed you to keep a close watch over the boy, and for that, I need him in your class..."_

"Who is he talking to?"

"I have a way to find out. Just keep this to ourselves", Harry explained as he took out the Marauder's Map. "A gift from my father. He and several of his friends made it to enhance their pranking abilities.

"I solemnly swear I am up to no good", Harry cast the spell.

The Map revealed itself with its splash screen, and the floor plan of Hogwarts appeared.

"There", Harry pointed out, "Thomas Riddle..."

"I've _seen_ that name before!", Draco called out.

"Where?"

"In the trophy case, I'm _sure_ of it".

"So he was a graduate?"

"If it's the same guy... Uhhhhh... Harry?"

"What?"

"There are two names, but one dot", Draco noticed. A single dot in Quirrel's quarters, but two names.

"Then he is possessed - like Lucius suspected".

 _"It's only a minor setback, I assure you, Master. So far, I'm on good terms with the other professors, so I can ask, one professor expressing interest in a student's progress. It's not as though he left the school completely. I'm sure I'll hear news"._

 _"I will forgive you this time, but this is your last chance"._

 _"Thank you, Master"_

 _"As for the artifact, are you any closer to acquiring it?"_

 _"I haven't been able to get up there. Snape's always watching. If I go up there again, I don't know how I'd explain it. I'm sure he suspects. I do have a plan, and we should secure its possession some time after Christmas break. I've been putting compulsion charms on one of my slower students. He'll do most of the work for us"._

 _"Excellent. Maybe you're not as useless as I was beginning to suspect"._

"Who do you suppose...", Harry asked.

"Weasley", Draco answered with confidence.

"I'm afraid you're right, so now what? Tell him? Tell Dumbledore?"

"Then Quirrel or this Riddle will know. You heard: he's taking way too much interest in you. Merlin knows what he'll do if he finds out".

They both knew Quirrel had become a good deal more dangerous than they'd realized.

"Then keep an extra close eye on Ron. I'm sure Hermione will help, after all, they both live in Gryffindor Tower. Maybe Madam Pomphrey can concoct a plausible explanation for giving him a physical?

"Mischief managed", Harry closed the Map.

The next day, Harry stopped by the trophy case. That name, Thomas Marvolo Riddle, was displayed on a House Cup from 1954. Riddle had been the Slytherin Boys Prefect that year. There should be more information in the library.

 **0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF**

Getting Norbert out of Hogwarts involved meeting Charlie Weasley at the Astronomy Tower. The use of ward stones to make an opening in the Perimeter was carefully timed to coincide with the Twins' diversion in and behind Ravenclaw Tower: Dung Bombs inside, and their home made fireworks outside. Since this was the day before the students who weren't staying behind would be leaving for their homes, Fred and George would do their detentions after the break. Harry's plan hadn't been as successful as he'd hoped, but Dumbledore was more than willing to overlook the violation of the Perimeter, as the cause of sparing Hagrid the legal troubles of possession of unlawful wildlife was a worthy one.

"There is one thing that I would appreciate", Dumbledore requested.

"That would be?"

"That you spend Christmas with the Weasleys"

"I'm afraid I can't do that, Professor. You see, I already have an invitation to the annual Yule Ball at Malfoy Manor. Hermione, Neville, and Luna too - all our families. That doesn't mean I can't drop by the Weasleys for a visit sometime before we come back, but Christmas, no can do".

"Is that so? I thought the Malfoys invited only pure blooded guests?"

"There's a first time for everything".


	15. Christmas Break

**Christmas Break**

 _Hogwarts: Dumbledore's Office_

"I understand you will be leaving us?", Dumbledore asked.

This was at the conclusion of a meeting Dumbledore requested, he said, for an end of term review and evaluation. The usual: going over Harry's exam results – he'd earned "Outstandings" and "Exceeds Expectations" for his classes. There was even grudging praise from the Potions Professor. Questions about how Harry was adjusting to his first taste of a boarding school.

"Why would you ask?", Harry replied. "It's been almost four months now, I haven't seen Mom or Dad, or Dudley. Never been away from home for so long. With all due respect, the thought of rambling around a virtually empty castle is the _last_ way I could think of for spending the holidays".

"Quite. I have a favour to ask", Dumbledore got to the point. "I would appreciate it if you could spend Christmas with the Weasleys..."

"I'm afraid I can't do that: the Malfoy Yule Ball – I've already accepted. I told you that already".

"I'm not expecting you would go back on an accepted invitation, Harry. There will be time both before and after the Ball. I understand your friend, Miss Granger, will be paying the Weasleys a visit". He mentioned as a deal sweetener.

"What I don't understand, Professor, is why you would ask?"

"Harry, Arthur and Molly are good and old friends, and you'll like them. They are understandably concerned for Ron. I understand you two haven't gotten along very well?".

"Or his older brothers..."

"It's Ron, especially, who concerns me. It's one thing to have a brother who's nearly the same age, but being the second youngest of a large family is never an easy thing. Ron is so desperate to prove himself the equal of his older brothers, and to compete for the attention of his only, younger, sister, that he makes rash decisions. I believe a visit from one who receives invitations from the Malfoys to their exclusive balls would benefit Ron".

"I wouldn't be too sure about that. I wonder if jealousy over 'The Boy Who Lived' (finger quotes) isn't a big part of his problem – one of many problems I might add. It seems an odd request. I can't imagine this happening at my old school".

"That's the main difference between the muggle world you are familiar with, and your new world. The Wizarding community is a good deal closer. Caring about those who need our help isn't that unusual, especially where long friendships are concerned".

Harry knew what was coming next: blackmail over Dumbledore's overlooking numerous rules violations and illegalities to help Hagrid out of his self-made Norbert problems: using the Malfoy wardstones to give entry to Charlie and his dragon handlers, and overlooking detentions for Fred and George for their diversions in and around Ravenclaw. He decided to spare himself.

"I can stop by. Luna lives on the other side of Ottery St Catchpole, and I was planning to be in the area anyway. Luna and I could drop by for an evening".

"That's all I ask. I shan't keep you from your packing. Wishing you a pleasant Christmas, and give my love to your family".

As Harry headed back towards the Slytherin dorms, he wondered why Dumbledore was so insistent on his ingratiating himself with the Weasleys. That the Headmaster would go to such lengths was extraordinary, even if his sole concern were a student who wasn't adjusting well to Hogwarts, to being away from home for so long. Shouldn't he work that out with the parents? Would he even be welcomed by a family who hadn't even invited him to visit? A family he didn't know at all? He was sure of one thing: concern for Ron's failing wasn't that reason.

Dumbledore was going over the file he kept on Harry. He was expecting an insecure, emotionally vulnerable Harry. This Harry was secure, confident, and even mature beyond his eleven years. He expected that the Dursleys would accept Harry only reluctantly, especially after being dumped unceremoniously on their doorstep. He kept a watch, and so far as he knew, the Dursleys – especially Vernon – had been quite abusive. The Harry he expected would gladly accept any chance to stay away. This Harry spoke with fondness of his foster family; this Harry couldn't wait to rejoin them. He expected Harry to jump at the chance to stay here in the castle, he expected that Vernon would have no objections, but he had turned down Dumbledore's letter requesting the necessary parental permission that Harry stay over the holiday in the castle.

That Harry would have gratefully accepted Dumbledore as a surrogate father figure. This Harry had demonstrated that he wasn't going to fall for the indulgent grandfatherly persona Dumbledore projected with such ease it had become natural over many decades.

"That Harry was almost a certain shoo-in for Gryffindor. Dumbledore didn't expect the Dursleys to actually tell him all about James and Lily, of course, but he thought he had an understanding with the Sorting Hat: Harry should have gone into Gryffindor. Instead, that damned Hat had sorted him into Slytherin: the one House over which he had the least control. No doubt Severus was unquestionably his man, but the debtor still holds something over the creditor. Slytherin was also the one House where he wasn't universally looked up to. The other heads of House: Poppy Pomphrey, Minreva McGonagall, and Filius Flitwick were all fawning acolytes, and their student members shared in that, to more or less extent, especially the lions of Gryffindor.

Harry had fallen in with Draco Malfoy: that wasn't supposed to happen, and Dumbledore was sorely disappointed with Ron, especially: he had failed to make friends with Harry Potter. There was an element of bad luck: Draco had gotten to Harry first. Ron had no sense of subtlety, he was trying too hard to please his parents and Headmaster. Seeing Harry enter Slythrin could have been a small set-back, but for Ron's failure. On the plus side, Harry seemed to be making friends with Neville Longbottom and Hermione Granger.

Then there was the unexpected facility with magic. How did Harry learn Occlumancy? How was he able to cast Unforgivables? Of this, he had no doubt: Harry had used a Killing Curse, and likely the Cruciatus against the mountain troll. Nothing less could have disabled a mountain troll, as these trolls are equipped with a tough, magic resistant, hide. McGonagall and Flitwick didn't mention any special abilities demonstrated during their classes, but he was sure Harry was holding back for whatever reason.

The most important concern was the gold in the Potter family vault. The Dark Lord would have nearly unlimited financing for his plans: Dumbledore knew that already, as he counted among his supporters and followers some of the wealthiest families in Magical Britain – all pure bloods who wanted to stay well within an elite that favoured their interests above all. If the Dark Lord were to be stopped once again, Dumbledore knew he would need that gold: for well placed bribes of Ministry officials, to outbid Voldemort for allegiances within the government and the _Daily Prophet_. He needed Harry for that, but those damned goblins had refused to accept Dumbledore as Potter's magical guardian. They refused him access to not so much as a Knewt. This wasn't a problem he was anticipating: the Harry he was expecting here at Hogwarts would have signed anything Dumbledore put in front of him. He would decide on how to go forward after consulting with Remus.

 **0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF**

Draco, Harry, and everyone who wasn't staying over for the holidays were in their dorms, picking and choosing what stayed here in the dorms, and what could go. Harry decided the Marauder's Map could stay, not much use for it outside Hogwarts. His student wand, of course, had to stay behind, as Firsties were not allowed a wand off campus. Dumbledore thought it best if his Firsties couldn't do any "Show 'n' Tell" for their parents as soon as they got back home. This was a school regulation, but part of the secrecy laws: no underage sorcery was permitted, and every magical child wore the Trace until they came of age at 17, so that if they performed wand magic, or even if in the proximity of wand magic, the DMLE would be notified automatically. So long as Harry had his special wand, he didn't need the one everyone knew about.

An extra Hogwarts robe: he would need his dress robes for the Ball, so he packed one in his overnight case. The electronic device Lucius lent him: go – Lucius might want it back. Books he shouldn't've had: these stayed as Harry's dorm trunk had hidden and charmed compartments where they wouldn't be discovered by Filch. His first Golden Snitch: take to show off for the family: no harm in that.

That evening, after the Christmas farewell feast, Dumbledore took the owl shaped podium.

"Does he always have to do that?", Draco asked without waiting for an answer, "So in love with the sound of his own voice?"

"What I was thinking", Harry agreed.

"I bid each and every one: a Merry Christmas: for those who will spend this time with their families, and for those who will spend it with our family here at Hogwarts. I also wish to express my thanks to everyone: we are well on our way towards another year of outstanding academic performance, judging by the mid-term exam scores. Give your selves a big round of applause".

Dumbledore led the applause.

"...We are well on our way towards another outstanding year..."

"Cedric's almost dying was pretty outstanding", Draco said quietly.

"And Hermione, don't forget Hermione and how that troll nearly redecorated the walls of the first floor girls' loo with her brains", Harry added.

"That, too", Draco agreed. "More self aggrandizement from Dear Leader. He can't be gone soon enough for the sake of Hogwarts".

"Doesn't he know the meaning of retirement? Anyway, it's been a pretty good year for me so far", Harry explained.

"See you next year", Dumbledore concluded his after dinner speech – none too soon. He didn't mention either major incident.

 **0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF**

"Firsties ober here! Firsties ober here!", Hagrid called out as soon as everyone had passed Filch's inspection.

Harry followed, but held back. The Firsties were going to Hogsmeade via the boats. Taking this short cut across Black Lake would ensure they arrived before the carriages the upper classmen took The same carriages that still looked to Harry as though they were self propelled: knowing about thestrals didn't make them visible. This allowed the Express' conductor and Hogwarts staff to see the youngest ones safely on board.

"Hagrid", Harry started.

"Whudder ye on 'boud? Ye doan wanna be lay fer t'train"

Harry handed Hagrid a manilla envelope: "A little something for your Christmas", Harry explained. "Promise you won't open it until the Express arrives in London".

"Ye didna hafta due thah, Harry"

"I know I didn't, but I wanted to anyway. Promise?"

"Aye, I promise. Now be off wid ye".

 **0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF**

The Slytherin gang, Harry, Draco, Vince, and Greg took one compartment, the Slytherin girls an adjoining compartment. The other House members did likewise, riding together.

"I wanted to say 'Thanks'", Harry explained to Draco, "for the invite to your Yule Ball".

"Think nothing of it. After all, you're a friend of the family, a Slytherin, _and_ you're famous".

"I meant the invites for Hermione, Luna, and Neville and their families".

"It took some convincing, but Father and Mother were willing to do it. Lots of very important people will be there, and there are more who'd give their eye teeth for an invitation. You'll see: the Malfoy Yule Ball is the height of the social calendar. Mud…. Errrr…. Ummmmm… those of mixed backgrounds: never been invited before", Draco explained.

"Or Chickendor's", Greg Goyle added, "Chickendor's at Malfoy Manor..." He did an exaggerated eye roll.

"...What's this world coming to?", Vince Crabbe added.

They all got a good chuckle from that.

"I wouldn't get my hopes up", Draco explained. "I don't think Augusta Longbottom will RSVP. She's on the Board of Governors, and hates Father with a passion. Always trying to get him kicked off".

Hermione, Luna, and Neville dropped by the compartment to give Draco their thank you's in person.

For the most part, the ride was pretty bleak: the scenery endless expanses of featureless whiteness. They spent the time mainly dozing. The scenery became more interesting after leaving the Highlands behind. Harry got some snacks from the cart.

At King's Cross, Harry met up with the Malfoys.

"You remember Harry?', Draco made the unnecessary re-introduction.

"Of course, how have you been?", Narcissa asked.

"So far, Hogwarts has more than lived up to my expectations… in ways I could never anticipate. I really appreciate what you and Mr Malfoy did for us".

"And I appreciate the appreciation", Lucius said. "So looking forward to seeing your family again… By the way, where are they? I thought they'd be here?"

"They're waiting on the other side".

"I… forgot".

"Another friend of ours, you haven't met Neville?"

"Madam Longbottom", Lucius greeted.

"Mr Malfoy", Augusta replied.

There was a palpable tension here.

"I do appreciate that my Neville is finally making friends. It hasn't been easy since...", she didn't finish that, as Bellatrix was Narcissa's sister – the one who put Frank and Alice in St Mungo's. She made a mental note to have a long talk with her charge about his choice in friendships.

She wondered how the hell something like this could happen: Neville and Draco, or how Harry had ended up in _Slytherin,_ of all places.

"Hermione!", Harry called out, waving her over.

"Hermione, Mr and Mrs Malfoy", Harry introduced.

"I'm so looking forward to your Ball. I haven't been to a Ball before. Thank you for your generous invitation".

"You can't do better than our Yule Ball for your first time", Narcissa told her.

"I just hope I don't do anything embarrassing..."

"Just be yourself, and let the rest fall into place. I'm sure you won't do anything like that".

"I understand you're doing very well?", Lucius asked.

"My folks said I shouldn't brag, but I did receive straight O's on my mid-terms. I try my best, whether at muggle school or Hogwarts".

"A good attitude to have: keep it up and there's no telling how far you can go. I'm sure you'll make your parents proud".

Harry and Hermione changed into muggle outfits so they wouldn't stand out as they left Platform 9.75. On the other side, their parents awaited. More introductions between Vernon and Petunia, Ted and Marilyn Granger, and Dudley.

"Glad to have you back", Vernon greeted Harry.

"Yeah, it's been _way_ too quiet around home and school without you", Dudley agreed.

"Ummmmm… Harry?", Marilyn said. "We received our invite to this Yule Ball".

"Is there a problem?", Harry asked.

"No, we sent our RSVP, it's just that… well… we were wondering how to prepare for a magician's Ball?"

"Don't worry, Hermione and I will help with that. It's a formal, and the Malfoys are incredibly wealthy, but, really, we're not so different. You'll see".

"I always said you worry too much", Ted agreed. "We knew what we were getting into when that owl showed up, and Minerva invited Hermione to Hogwarts".

"I just hope it's not too stuffy and boring", Dudley announced.

"I doubt you'll have to worry about that', Harry told him.

Harry and Dudley piled into Vernon's SUV to make their way back to 4 Privet Dr.

"See you in a few", he called to Hermione, who blew him a kiss.

Hagrid slit open the envelope Harry had given him. Inside, he found a ticket from London's Heathrow to Cluj-Napoca in Transylvania, as well as all the paper work. Courtesy of Harry Potter and Charlie Weasley: a visit to the dragon preserve he managed. Harry's account manager at Gringott's, Barchoke, had taken care of the payments.

"Oh, Harry, ye didna hafta due thah", he said to his boar hound, Fang.

 **0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF**

"What do these grades mean?", Vernon asked.

"'O' stands for 'outstanding'", Harry explained, "it's the equivalent of an 'A' in muggle school. 'E' means, 'exceeds expectations', and would be the same as a 'B'"

"Glad to see you're doing so well, but it hasn't been all study?"

"That reminds me", Harry dug through his overnight case. "I won this".

"Is that… gold?", Vernon asked as he looked at the shiny ball with droopy, silvery, gossamer wings.

"Indeed it is: that's why it's called a 'Golden Snitch'. You play Quiddich with it, and catching it ends the game, usually in your favour if you do. I won that in my first match: Slytherin v. Ravenclaw".

"I never figured you for the athletic type", Petunia added. She wished Dudley would take an interest. He could do with more physical activity.

"I never figured myself either", Harry explained. "It just sort'a happened, when I rescued Hermione from that terrible crash".

"I remember you wrote about it".

"So you been kickin' ass and taklin' names?"

"Dudley!", Petunia reprimanded.

"Sorry, Mum", he apologized for his use of bad language.

"Well, yes, I have", Harry didn't go into further details. He thought it best not to mention the incidents with Cedric and Hermione. If Vernon knew, it was likely he wouldn't be going back to Hogwarts.

 _Longbottom Manor_

"Gran! No!", Neville called out.

"I am burning this", Augusta was positively shocked when the owl arrived, bearing an invitation to the Malfoys' Yuletide Ball. "How those people would ever _think_ I would accept..."

"But, Gran, _all_ my friends will be there! Hermione, Harry, Luna..."

"I don't know what's gotten into you! While I hoped you would finally have a chance to make new friends, I also expected you to show better judgment in how you choose those friends. As for Harry Potter, how he got into Slytherin... Neville: these people are the ones responsible for Frank and Alice's condition! I would think you'd show more respect for your mother and father!"

"Draco hadn't even been born yet..."

"Bellatrix is his aunt. Lucius was one of his more fanatical supporters. Still is".

"No, he isn't, Harry said..."

"Do you _dare_ to contradict me, Young Man?! I serve on the Board of Governors! I've seen Malfoy in action a lot more than you ever did. I don't give a _damn_ what Harry says! He's still a child! What would he know?"

"Why don't we ask him?"

Augusta recognized an opportunity when she saw one offered right under her nose. She and Neville apparated to a secluded part of the park.

"Yes?", Vernon answered the knock at the door.

"I'm Augusta Longbottom, Neville's grandmother", she introduced. We'd like a word with Harry".

"Come in", Vernon offered. "Harry!", he called out.

"Neville? Madam Longbottom?"

"What is the meaning of this?", she demanded, as she waved the invitation.

"It's simple", Harry explained, "Neville is my godbrother..."

"Yes, I know that..."

"...And my friend. I asked Draco to ask his father to include my friends as I already was going to be invited because I'm Draco's friend. He agreed it wouldn't be fair to not include all of us".

"Harry, you can't _begin_ to appreciate just how evil that man is!"

"Is this true? Harry?", Vernon asked, concerned.

"No..."

"Yes!", Augusta interrupted. "You, being non-magical, had _no_ idea what was going on outside of what you weren't allowed to see. Lucius Malfoy was one of the Dark Lord's _most_ fanatical followers. The things he did in the service of his Lord and Master… His sister in law, Bellatrix Lestrange, tortured Neville's mother and father into a state of permanent insanity from which they will never recover. The only thing keeping him out of Azkaban is his gold. How your foster son managed to fall in with that crowd is quite the mystery. That you didn't know prevented you from protecting Harry..."

"Mrs Longbottom: I don't need 'protecting'..."

"There's one way to find out: if you'll come with us to St Mungos for a mind scan to see what sorts of compulsions you're under".

"When it comes to that, I'd sooner trust Mr Malfoy before I'd trust Dumbledore and his magic lemon drops".

"How can you _say_ such a thing about Albus Dumbledore? He's one of the greatest wizards and Headmasters in a century. You should be _grateful_ for his willingness to mentor you, Harry"

"I will go with you to St Mungos… under one condition".

"And what would that be?"

"When I get a clean bill of health, you accept Mr Malfoy's invitation". Augusta hesitated. "What are you waiting for, if you're that convinced Draco and/or his parents did something".

"Do it, Gran", Neville encouraged.

"Agreed, Mr Potter. Do I have your permission to take Harry to St Mungos?"

"What's this 'St Mungos'?", Vernon asked.

"St Mungos Hospital for Magical Maladies", Harry explained. "The name's pretty much self explanatory. That's where Cedric went after his accident on the Quiddich pitch. It shouldn't take more than an hour or two".

"It's the only way to find out if anyone has been tampering with Harry's mind", Augusta explained.

"If it's in Harry's best interests".

"It is".

"Besides, I trust these folks", Harry encouraged.

"You have my permission", Vernon agreed.

With that, Augusta apparated the three of them directly to St Mungos. Being Augusta Longbottom meant Harry was seen by a mind healer right away.

"Well?", Augusta asked.

"I've scanned Mr Potter for all the most common and uncommon charms, curses, and potions. I detected no influence of either the Imperious or Confundus spells, no compulsions, and no potions. He shows no sign of ever having been exposed to any of these".

"Toldjaso", Harry announced.

"It would seem I have been told... Thank you for your service" Augusta told the mind healer.

"You owe me an RSVP", Harry reminded.

"It would seem I do, and as distasteful as it may be, I will honour our agreement".

They apparated back to Little Whinging to tell Vernon and Petunia the good news.

"Never a doubt", Vernon announced.

"Not after meeting the Malfoys at the Welcome Feast", Petunia added.

Two days after Harry's return to Little Whinging, the doorbell rang.

"May I help you?", Petunia asked the unfamiliar visitor.

"My name's Remus Lupin: Harry's Defense tutor".

"I see… come on in and welcome".

"Harry! Visitor!", she called out.

"Mr Lupin?", Harry started.

"Just plain, Remus or Lupin will do nicely", he reminded again.

"What brings you here?", Harry asked.

"I have something I think you'll like", Lupin explained. "some mementos of James and Lily".

"I think we'd all like to see that", as Harry led him to their living room.

Lupin had a photo album. If Vernon, Dudley and Petunia had magical abilities, they would have seen these photos moving, much like an animated GIF. To muggle eyes, the photos didn't look the least bit different.

"Here's me, James, Sirius, and Peter", Lupin showed them a group photo obviously taken at Hogwarts, near Black Lake. Harry recognized the same trees in the background: they didn't look any different.

"The Marauders", Lupin explained. "This was taken around the start of the year we sat our OWLs..."

"OWLs?", they asked.

"Ordinary Wizarding Level", Remus explained the acronym. "Consider it comparable to high school graduation. The OWLs are your final exams if you don't go onto post graduate studies".

"Do you do that at Hogwarts?", Vernon asked.

"Yes, actually, Hogwarts is like a combination of muggle high school and the first years of university. It depends on what career you want, whether you go further or not".

"So Padfoot, Prongs, Wormtail, and Moonie", Harry supplied their Marauders nicks".

"That's what we called ourselves. They performed the ritual to become animagi… never bothered to register..."

"Isn't that illegal?", Harry asked.

"We weren't exactly sticklers for rules and regulations", Remus explained. "It was thought for the best: if the Ministry didn't know about it, then neither could Hewhomustnotbenamed".

"You mean Voldemort?"

"You shouldn't say that name", he complained.

"I don't see why not. It's just a name", Harry protested.

"A name with power, Harry, to say it is to invoke a power – a very evil power".

"All the more reason not to be afraid of saying it. Avoiding it is to lend it that power".

"It brings up too many unpleasant memories".

"OK, OK", Harry conceded Lupin's point. "You still haven't explained about the nicks. You have three references to animals. You didn't take part in that ritual?"

"Actually, there was no reason for me to become an animagus. You see, I am a werewolf..."

"No… shit?"

"No, Dudley, none whatsoever".

"Then you go around ripping out throats every full moon? Cool!"

"Why would you say that? I was expecting a bit more skepticism here".

"Werewolves? Heh, after all the weird things that've been happening ever since Harry arrived, I can believe that", Dudley explained.

"I always thought werewolves were fictitious?", Vernon asked.

"We're not. We really do exist. For every myth or legend, there's usually an element of truth behind it. Like everything else, the International Statute of Secrecy has allowed common knowledge to fade into vaguely recalled myths and legends.

"It's not like the movies. In the first place, muggles can't become weres, even if they're bitten. As for the rest of the legends, they're pretty true. When the transformation occurs, there is the total loss of awareness of ever having been human, and the werewolf's natural instincts towards predation take over.

"There is a potion based on wolfsbane that doesn't stop the transformation completely, but it does allow us weres to retain our human understanding. That means the beast within is kept under control, so no ripping out throats. Weres who can't afford the potion cage themselves for the duration… Unfortunately, not all. Fenrir Grayback… now there's one that gives all us weres a bad name… He bit me..."

"So that's how...", Harry started.

"When I was eight, my father did something that greatly upset Grayback, and that was his revenge: making me a werewolf… He makes sure to be close to his victims when it's time. That way, there is an excellent chance he will bite, if not kill, his selected victim. He also likes to bite as many as he can to make more weres. Nasty piece of work.

"Now you see why I didn't need the ritual since I'm already an animagus of sorts, and why James gave me the nick: 'Moonie'".

"So why did James and the rest decide to become animagi?"

"It was their idea, you know, to keep watch over me when I transformed. Pettigrew chose to become a rat as that made him a difficult target for the Whomping Willow that guards the passage into Hogsmeade. He could get close enough to stop the tree, to allow the rest of us into what you probably now know as the Shrieking Shack. That's where I hid out until the full moon passed".

"So you were the shriek of the shack?", Harry asked. "It's not really haunted?"

"No, but getting everyone to believe that worked to our benefit so's no one would uncover my secret".

"Why would you care?", Dudley asked.

"Wizards and muggles share a common superstition when it comes to werewolves like me. We're not welcome, and almost every were is relegated to living on the margins, living away from the rest of humanity in the forests, making a living as we can: as highway robbers, and, yes, sometimes hunting human prey. I refused to live like that, but a Hogwarts education wouldn't out weigh my being a were, so I went a different route: a muggle career. Now, I have Wizards looking down on me because of that, and weres who resent what they see as thinking myself better than them because I refused to join a pack. That's why your offer for my services as a Defense tutor was so welcome. I got laid off, and in this lousy economy, finding employment's difficult, especially at my age. I can really use the money right about now.

"The only man who ever gave me a chance was Albus Dumbledore. You can't imagine what a great man he is. He wants to make things better for weres, and other non-humans as well. He's one of the few humans who learned Mermish to win the respect of the merpeople of Black Lake. He is also the only man I ever heard of who's actually welcome in the centaurs' territory. He's also working to make everything better for the muggle-born, like your friend Hermione, by opposing blood purity prejudice. If it hadn't been for Professor Dumbledore, I would never have been able to attend Hogwarts. We're fortunate to have him as Headmaster".

Harry still had his doubts, but this was an entirely different perspective than the one he was getting from Draco.

"Anyway, enough about me", Lupin continued. "Here are some of the wedding pictures. It was a rough road, lost of speed bumps in their relationship, but James wed Lily shortly after graduation".

"They're starkers!", Dudley pointed out the obvious.

James and Lily stood, naked as jay birds, before the presiding wizard decked out in fancy dress robes. They held a wand between their hands with two wedding rings looped around it.

"Just how we do things", Lupin explained. "You'll recognize Professor Dumbledore".

Indeed, Dumbledore, acting as the official witness, he hadn't changed one bit in the intervening decade since this picture was taken.

"Here's Alistair Moody, the famous auror", he pointed to a severe looking man who wore his battle scars with pride. "Before he lost an eye in the war…

"Then there's Emily Vance… and the Longbottom's – Alice and Frank… Neville's parents, and Madam Longbottom, Neville's grandmother".

"He told me about them", Harry said.

"A tragic loss", Lupin agreed.

"Here's your future godfather: Sirius Black, with Wormtail: the Marauders… Here's Arthur and Molly Weasley – Ron's parents. You're in the same class".

"I've met Ron, but he's in Gryffindor, so I can't say I know him all that well".

"I haven't looked at this in ages… We made up the Order of the Phoenix to oppose Hewhomustnotbenamed and his followers: the Death Eaters… most of them lost their lives for opposing him. He caused so much pain, now do you see why his name should not be mentioned? He still has active followers who don't take kindly to those who, in their view, take the Dark Lord's name in vain. If the wrong people hear you say it, it could mean big trouble".

"They're still active? How can that be? After… Youknowwho fell, I thought..."

"So did a lot of people, Harry. A lot of Death Eaters were sent to Azkaban, but all too many bought off corrupt officials, called in political favours, to escape the justice they so richly deserved. There wasn't a single one who bore the Dark Mark who didn't insist they were under the Imperious Curse when they took that Dark Mark forever marking them as a faithful follower of their Dark Lord. Now do you see why you shouldn't say his name? If the wrong people hear you say it, they can make life very difficult. They're still out there and are still quite dangerous".

"Then _why_ isn't your Ministry _doing_ something about it!", Vernon complained.

"Gold greases the skids", Lupin explained, "how is it any different in the muggle world? Just because we have unusual powers doesn't mean we're immune to common human shortcomings".

"You're making me wonder whether sending Harry to Hogwarts was such a good idea..."

"We also have good people like Professor Dumbledore, who are trying to make a difference, to make necessary, long overdue, changes. Young people like Harry and his friends can definitely contribute to making a better Wizarding World".

"If this Dumbledore, if Hogwarts, is as special as you say, then why does Harry need you as a tutor?"

"That, you see, has been an ongoing problem: filling the position of DADA professor. No one has lasted longer than one academic year in as long as anyone can remember. It's said that the Professorship has been cursed. It is not easy, finding professors willing to take a chance filling that position. Our latest, Professor Quirrel, was a desperation choice. He may be knowledgeable concerning the Dark Arts, but, unfortunately, he isn't much of a teacher. He sees himself as an adventurer, but is sorely lacking in the ability to translate that into classroom material. I'm sure you've met the type during your muggle academic career?"

"Easy teachers who let the class skate for easy A's".

"That's Professor Quirrel, and that's why Harry requested outside help, and I was glad to oblige the son of my best friend".

 _Hogwarts: Dumbledore's Office_

"How did it go with the Dursleys?", Dumbledore asked.

"It was a pleasant evening. I showed Harry and his folks some pictures of our Hogwarts days, showed wedding photos, and talked a bit about the last Wizarding War and Harry's father's involvement… and mine", Lupin explained.

"How was Harry?"

"Very interested in hearing about his parents from someone who was there. I even mentioned about being a were".

"How did they accept that?"

"I cleared up a few of the most common misconceptions, but they all seemed fine with it… One question: why are you asking?"

"Just concerned for Harry's well being, as his foster parents are a muggle and a squib, and to make sure he lives under Lily's protection".

"You have no worries about that. The Dursleys care for Harry as mush as for Dudley. Harry and Dudley get along as well as brothers, and not brother/step-brother".

"Splendid. So there are no problems?"

"I can't exactly say that?"

"Oh?"

"It's Vernon: I get the impression he isn't too happy with Hogwarts".

"How so?"

"He wasn't pleased that Harry sought outside help with Defense, and questioned why such a prestigious school couldn't hire better instructors".

"Did he mention anything about Miss Granger or Mister Diggory?"

"The subject never came up, but I doubt it. I get the impression Vernon would pull Harry out of Hogwarts if he had".

"Thank you for your help, Remus, I knew I could count on you".

"Anything for James' son".

Everything Dumbledore's old comrade in arms confirmed his worst fears. He had somehow misjudged the Dursleys badly, or they had changed some time without his realizing it. Harry wasn't going to be so easy to manipulate.

 _4 Privet Drive_

Vernon was about to get some even worse news: it was well after dark when there came a persistent knocking at the front door. Petunia answered, and looked out into noting but night. That was, until she looked down at the furry critter standing on his hind legs.

"May I come in?", he asked, "I'm a friend of Harry's". He said it in an accent unlike any she'd ever heard before.

"Harry!", she turned to call into the house, "Visitor!"

"So you're one of James' old friends, like the others who turn themselves into animals?"

"I'll explain..."

"Lucius?", Harry arrived.

"Do come in", Petunia offered.

Introductions all around, and Lucius went through the whole story of his acquiring human level intelligence, and how he became the apprentice of a technomage.

"So who is this guy?", Vernon asked.

"I can't say the name. If you know what a Fidelius Charm is, you will understand why I can't".

"It's a charm that protects secrets", Harry volunteered, "only the Secret Keeper can name names and places".

"Have you found out anything?", Harry asked.

"I have, and it's not good".

He dug out a laptop from his bottomless pack.

Hell'd you get that?!", Dudley asked. "That's _way_ beyond anything Apple makes".

"It's a magi-technical artifact", Lucius explained. "You need to see this, Harry, and your wife. It concerns his future".

Lucius brought up the photos he'd taken of Dumbledore's financial records.

"The reason why the goblins refuse to do business with him. Ten years ago, he used his considerable political influence to have James' and Lily's last will and testament sealed. He used the pretext that it was a matter of national security..."

"How is such a thing possible?", Vernon complained.

"For muggles, it isn't, but the Wizarding World has its own government, and it's a good deal less honest than yours. If anyone could do it, then Dumbledore is that man. He strongly implied that the wills contained information that would be highly embarrassing to the pure blood fanatics within the Ministry. If the Potters identified by name prominent Death Eaters, it could end a lot of careers. Well worth concealing".

"What would he hope to gain by that?"

"Besides access to the Potter family assets? He had himself appointed Harry's magical guardian. As such, he could make certain that Harry was placed with a family of muggles or squibs to keep him well in the dark concerning this new world he would enter after that first owl arrived on his eleventh birthday. Had Harry been raised by a magical family, there is no way he wouldn't know about that world and his place in it as the victor over the Dark Lord. Set himself up as the mentor of a naive new wizard, and he controls what he learns and doesn't learn about this new world".

"Do you know what the wills say?", Harry asked.

"I'm afraid not, as those records have been buried so deep inside the Ministry. I can take a good guess: Harry inherits the family assets as the last living Potter, and therefore automatically becomes Lord Potter when he comes of age. I'm also certain there were provisions for guardianship should something happen to James and Lily, and I'm certain Albus Dumbledore wasn't on that list.

"Fortunately, the goblins of Gringott's wouldn't recognize Dumbledore's claim as legitimate. It was his attempts to access the Potter family vaults that finally alienated the goblins. This is why all school financial records are in Minerva McGonagall's name. His explanation is that he is leaving this duty to the Deputy Head Mistress for that day when she takes over as Head Mistress. So far, no one has questioned him.

"Given that he can't have a vault in Gringott's, he has stashed in the castle a very rare, very valuable, and long sought after, artifact. It's the sort of thing that draws all the wrong sorts of attention".

"Has he...", Vernon started to ask.

"They wouldn't let him have so much as a knewt from the Potter family assets".

"What about us?", Vernon asked, "do _we_ have any say?"

"The goblins wouldn't recognize you and your wife as legitimate guardians either. Your adoption of Harry isn't legitimate as Dumbledore had no business offering Harry's guardianship to you. As for Harry's status in muggle law, the goblins don't recognize muggle law. Fortunately, Gringott's _is_ looking out for Mr. Potter's assets".

"Thank God for goblins".

"Indeed. That's not the end of it..."

"There's more?!"

"He's been stealing from every student who isn't of pure blood. Pure blood families get a 40% kickback on tuition, and with the associated merchants in Diagon Alley. Madam Malkin pays Dumbledore an annual subscription as the exclusive maker of Hogwarts robes, and makes up the difference by overcharging those of mixed blood status. That includes Flourish and Blotts, the book store. Dumbledore's pay to play scheme is illegal. The only one not in on it is Garrick Ollivander, the wand maker".

"And nobody does anything about it?"

"Dumbledore has cultivated a cult of personality, and there are very few who would consider questioning him on anything, and those who do keep their mouths shut tight for the sake of careers and social standing.

"He is also playing both ends against the middle. He placates those who want honest reforms, who oppose the blood status hierarchy, who seek better treatment of non-human magical beings by talking the talk. He is also doing everything to undermine the reforms the pure bloods naturally resist. He has a ghost teaching Magical History. How can a ghost make up exam papers? He can't. The class is widely regarded as a joke, as an extra study hall or nap time. Keep the students in the dark about real history, keep them from knowing the real situation: that no matter how good you are or how hard you work, you won't rise very far if you are of mixed blood. There is not one member of the Wizengamot who isn't a pure blood".

"You mean like Hermione?", Harry asked.

"I'm afraid your friend doesn't have many prospects in Magical Britain, Doesn't matter that she's one of the most talented magicians to ever cross Hogwarts threshold. She's a muggle-born, and that's all they need to know. As less than pure blood, she might rise as high as a clerk to a minister. As not only of less than pure blood, and as a muggle-born, maybe she gets hired to empty waste baskets and polish floors. Any better positions, forget about it. Dumbledore takes her tuition, and keeps hope alive where there is none. The Pures know that, when it comes to action, Dumbledore is no threat to their interests. He says one thing in public and does the opposite in private. This is how he maintains his popularity and influence".

"What I don't understand is _why_? _Why_ would Dumbledore risk so much for such shady deals? Is he that greedy? What?"

"It began a long time ago, back when Voldemort started becoming noticed as a dark lord wannabe. As he gained influence, gathered followers from some of the oldest, wealthiest pure blood families, he had no lack of financing. Dumbledore needed financing, too, for his Order of the Phoenix to oppose Voldemort. He wasn't adverse to begging, borrowing, or stealing – especially stealing – to get it. Theft carries no strings or obligations; he is very much a believer in the ends justify the means.

"He has another motive: the Weasleys. He's been diverting scholarship funds to send every one of the Weasley children to Hogwarts, even if that means more deserving students are denied scholarships, especially if they are of mixed backgrounds. Despite the family's pure blood status, their financial condition would make it extremely difficult for Arthur and Molly to send just _one_ of theirs to Hogwarts. A poor family like the Weasleys would normally send the eldest to Hogwarts, while the younger siblings would go to a magical day school with none of the prestige of Hogwarts. They would have to content themselves with the lowest level of the Ministry or work outside the Ministry completely. This leaves these kids in quite a bind: no prospects in the Magical World, and they are left ill prepared for any sort of muggle career. A lot do find their way into the muggle military, as there are no better options open to them.

"Being pure bloods keeps other pure bloods from asking questions as to how the Weasleys can afford to send all their offspring to Hogwarts. That's another reason why Dumbledore would want to get his paws on the Potter family gold: to give it to the Weasleys".

"I can understand pure desperation. If I thought everything I valued was in jeopardy, I might do the same. What's his excuse now? Isn't this Voldemort gone? Isn't that why our Harry is so famous?"

"Lots of people think they've heard the last from the Dark Lord, but Dumbledore isn't convinced. No body was recovered from the Potters' cottage, and he was known to be there, as James and Lily died from the Killing Curse. The same Killing Curse that would have taken Harry had it not backfired on the Dark Lord. His Death Eater followers say he claimed he was immortal. I know how mental that sounds, and most aren't taking that seriously, but Dumbledore definitely does, and he's been saying so ever since that night ten years ago".

"Even if Dumbledore tried to rob the vaults, would the Weasleys accept?", Harry asked

"They might, especially if they were kept well in the dark regarding the source of their sudden stroke of good fortune. Gold in sufficient quantities can silence a lot of questions".

"Why would Dumbledore want to do such a thing? What's his connection to these Weasleys?"

"Arthur, Molly, Bill and Charles were among the first members of the original Order of the Phoenix. The Ministry did give them a small award for their service in the Order, but as they had nothing to do with the banishment, it was only a token. Arthur got an Order of Merlin out of it, and the position as head of the Office of Muggle Affairs, but as the Ministry doesn't care about the well being of Britain's muggle population, it's neither a prestigious nor particularly well paid position: barely enough to take care of the family. One would expect that Arthur would use this entry level position as a spring board to better things, but Arthur has demonstrated no such ambition. Dumbledore believes they deserve better, and perhaps they do. Once again, Dumbledore demonstrates he wants to do good, but isn't particularly choosy about the ethics of his methods".

"No wonder Ron seems so out of place", Harry said.

"I wouldn't hold that against him. He knows nothing about it, so don't judge too harshly. Chances are that none of the Weasleys know anything about Dumbledore's machinations".

"Believe me, I have enough already to hold against Ron and his brothers without needing to know what you just told us", Harry replied. "Total assholes: I'm glad I'm not in Gryffindor with them".

"What do you think? Is this Dark Lord a threat?"

"My Master definitely thinks it's a very real possibility. There are rituals, very dark ones, that do promise immortality, but for a very high price. Attempts to defy natural law are inherently risky, can backfire, and will likely cost you every shred of conscience, the last describing Voldemort accurately".

"It's beginning to sound like sending Harry to Hogwarts was a big mistake. Maybe he shouldn't go back".

"I would advise against that".

" _Why?_ If he's in _any_ sort of danger..."

"Pull Harry out, and Dumbledore will know we're onto him. If not Dumbledore, then whoever he's working for, either willingly or unknowingly. It's too late to transfer Harry to another school anyway".

"Who the hell cares!"

"Remove Harry from the protection of the wards, and I can't guarantee that, whoever they are, wouldn't attempt to snatch Harry to extort what they want from Dumbledore. I also can't guarantee that, should such a thing happen, Dumbledore would pay any ransom for Harry.

"Even if Voldemort's gone for good, there are lots of his followers who believe otherwise, and are willing to act on that belief. You, Harry, Petunia, and Dudley are beneficiaries of Harry's blood ward protection. That much is real. Harry will be safe at Hogwarts as I have planted listening devices in the faculty's living quarters and offices. Harry has the receiver. He also has a map, the Marauder's Map, created by his father and friends that tracks everyone on campus in real time. I have an understanding, one non-human to another, with the house elves. Should Harry need a quick get-away, they will provide it immediately. For now, wait and see how things develop before deciding one way or another".

"I'd like to stay", Harry explained, "for my friends. I can't abandon them".

"I'll think about it; let me discuss it with Petunia".

"For now, the safest place for Harry _is_ Hogwarts".


	16. Yuletide with the Malfoys

**Yuletide with the Malfoys**

The day after Lucius Lutra's visit, Harry was finally able to meet up with Hermione.

"Well, it certainly has been an eventful first year", Harry started.

"I suppose that's one way of putting it".

"Did you tell about everything?"

"Good Merlin no! Mum and Dad would have me out of there in a second! You?"

"Same here. So far as they know, Cedric had a routine accident with a rough and tough game. That was bad enough: Mum and Dad wanted me to quit Quiddich. Took a lot of convincing that these accidents were rare. They wouldn't let kids play if it were too dangerous, would they? I didn't mention the troll incident. I really don't like keeping secrets, but what choice do we have?"

"Me neither, and I have never kept anything from them".

"There's something else..."

"Oh?"

"I'm not sure how much longer I can stay at Hogwarts… Not after learning what I know about Dumbledore..."

"What do you mean?"

Harry told her everything he'd learned from Lucius' investigation: all the financial irregularities and how the Headmaster attempted to rob the Potter vaults, the corruption and chicanery with the scholarships, the use of the castle to harbour a dangerous artifact as he couldn't do business with Gringott's.

"I know it's a lot to take in all at once", Harry explained, "but I figure you need to know. It's already out we're friends even if we're in rival Houses. There's something going on, I don't know what, but it involves my being 'The Boy Who Lived' somehow. We can't trust our Headmaster to have our best interests in mind..."

" _How_ do you know this?"

"I can't tell anyone, but I've seen the records for myself, and it's all true. We need to look out for ourselves; no one else will".

"But, Harry… Dumbledore! He's the greatest wizard..."

"That's what almost everyone believes, what they were led to believe, what they _want_ to believe..."

"I _can't_ believe it!"

"You have to. You were nearly killed right there at Hogwarts! You saw: that unicorn poacher. How does someone like that get so close to Hogwarts? How does a mountain troll get in a castle filled with kids just like us? If that isn't reason enough to believe there's anything to what I've said, then I don't know what is".

"I'm sure there's a reasonable explanation".

"For one incident, maybe, I'd agree", Harry explained. "A point is just a point, two points define a line, three or more define a pattern".

"Then what do we do? We're just kids!"

"We look out for each other, that's what we do. You're good, one of the best, and thanks to Remus, we're all getting better.

On to more pleasant topics: there was something I wanted to ask. You know, Dumbledore wants me to see Ron's family".

"He asked me too".

"Anyway, I thought of meeting up with Luna. Her Dad knows the Weasleys quite well".

"Sounds like a better plan than just dropping in, uninvited", Hermione agreed.

"That way, we could all go together, you, me, Luna".

"What I don't understand is why?"

"It's Dumbledore: he wants me to ingratiate myself with Ron for some reason. He was planning that all along, why Ron was so insistent I ride with him on the Express. He knows we're friends. If you go, it's all the more reason why I should go".

"There was something I was meaning to ask", Harry changed the subject. "I mean – you, me – we didn't grow up in a wizarding family. I understand both your parents are muggles?"

"Indeed, they are. Growing up was strange. I mean, there was that time, just after I started school; the kids were giving me a hard time. We had this old cabinet radio, just a decoration as it hadn't worked for decades. I had a case of what we would later find out was accidental magic that got the old radio working again, still is, after all these years. Then there was this particularly mean girl: I magically threw her off her bicycle and she broke a leg. I really didn't get along with kids my age, being that I had a reputation of being a freak, because of all the inexplicable things that would happen whenever I was around. I suppose that's why I decided to lose myself in books and school work. You?"

"Well, Aunt Petunia is a squib, but she knows all about magic from her sister… my mother. There were also incidents, like that time I turned the teacher's hair blue. We went to the zoo, and I accidentally let all the snakes out. That one required the services of the Obliviators.

Then there was Aunt Muriel… Merlin what a bitch! I got really pissed one Christmas, and inflated her like a balloon. Pretty funny, watching her float along the ceiling. Good thing we weren't outdoors. We also needed the Obliviators for that one, and only I recall the incident.

As for school, it wasn't so bad. Yeah, there was the occasional bully, but I got along pretty well, despite incidents like teleporting myself to the school roof to escape a gang of older bullies. Dudley took care of the worst bullies. I do kind'a miss 'em, my old classmates, I mean".

"I sure don't miss mine. Getting to go to Hogwarts was a change for the better. I really don't want to leave to go back to muggle school, though my folks are insisting on summer school. Not sure I like the idea of that, no more summer vacations".

"So far, mine haven't mentioned anything like that. Though I'm wondering why I shouldn't go onto uni for Veterinary Medicine, like I always wanted to".

"You're not planning on a magical career?"

"I didn't say that. I once told Hagrid I'd like to do both: take care of magical critters like he does, as well as the more mundane critters. You might consider it: a partly muggle career".

"Why would you say that?"

"Just don't want you being disappointed".

"About what?"

"Haven't you noticed? How many who aren't pure bloods are on the Wizengamot?"

"Does it matter? Weren't we invited to the Ball?"

"We'll be the first from less than pure backgrounds… Speaking of Christmas outings, you ready for the Ball?", Harry decided not to press the matter.

"We'll be wearing our dress robes, and Mom, Dad, and Dudley are renting Formals".

"Same with my folks… You think they'll be OK with us?"

"I don't see why not. You were sorted into Gryffindor, but that's just an accident of the Hat. The Malfoys understand that, even if they're exclusively Slytherin alumni".

"The Hat told me I had Gryffindor qualities because of how I handled being bullied all the time. I suppose it's true, what with Mom and Dad being busy with getting their practice established. Mom, especially, was kind'a distant, if you know what I mean".

"Sorry to hear it".

"I suppose perfection is asking a bit much. If they only knew, no one would have kids".

 **0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF**

"Do we hafta wear these damned monkey suits?", Dudley was complaining.

"Language", Petunia reprimanded.

"It wouldn't do you any harm to expose yourself to some elegance", Vernon was explaining. "One of these days in the not too distant future you won't be a kid anymore… And stop fooling with that tie", he said as he straightened the bow tie.

"Why don't we just pop on over there?"

"I refuse to put on airs. We will be taking the SUV like normal people – which is who we are".

"That'll be a first", Harry remarked.

Wiltshire was due west on the M4. Harry directed, off the highway and onto country roads.

"This is as far as we go", Harry announced. "It's cross country from here".

Vernon kicked in the four wheel drive to cross the frozen meadows. "You won't be able to see Malfoy Manor until you're almost on top of it", Harry reminded.

The wrought iron gate seemed to appear out of nowhere. Harry had explained how most wizarding residences were concealed under Glamour and Notice-Me-Not charms and wards. The abstract frills and curly cues twisted into the frightening face that challenged all intruders.

"State your business", it challenged.

Harry rolled down the rear window, stuck his head out with the invitation scroll: "Harry Potter and family: we have an invitation".

"Enter and be welcome", the face returned to normal as the gates swung open. Vernon drove along the path through the gardens, barely wide enough to accommodate the SUV.

The manor had wide, tall windows, and seven spires around a rectangular, two story structure. One central spire, between which was the wide front porch, each spire topped with a pyramidal roof with sharply sloping sides with slate roof tiles. Two more decorated the back, in line with the two in front. The remaining spires were built into the side, each spire providing a third floor. The roof of the main building was flat, and surrounded by guard rails, so this was outdoors space.

It was obvious from the number of chimneys that the Malfoys didn't believe in central heating.

Vernon, Petunia, and Harry were greeted at the front door by footmen: Petunia was escorted, while the guys followed behind.

"The family Dursley" one announced to the guests assembling in the main ballroom. There was an inferno in the enormous fireplace, and a quartet played chamber music.

Heads turned, as this was not recognized as the name of a wizarding family. The buzz around the room confirming that this must be Potter's foster family. Some guests didn't seem none too pleased by Harry's presence, though they kept that hidden.

"We're so pleased you came", Narcissa told them in the receiving line.

"Thank you for your most generous invitation", Vernon said.

"Harry, there's someone most anxious to make your acquaintance", Lucius told him.

"I won't detain him long", he said to the rest of the Dursleys.

Portly man wearing his trade mark, lime green pot hat: "May I introduce Mr. Cornelius Fudge – Minister of Magic. Harry Potter".

"Harry!"

"Mr. Minister".

"No need to be so formal", Fudge announced. "I wonder if you can imagine what you mean to the wizarding world. You're considered an icon".

"So I've been learning", Harry explained. "It's just that I don't consider myself an 'icon'. After all, I really didn't have anything to do with it, and my parents deserve all the credit, especially my mother. As for myself, I prefer being just plain old Harry Potter".

"Modest to a fault", Fudge observed. "My condolences for the loss of James and Lily. There's nothing plain about you".

"Thank you for that".

"How are you adjusting to Hogwarts? How is Albus?"

"So far, I'm liking it better than I expected, being away from family for so long for the first time. My grades are looking good, and our House is winning points. As for the Professor, he's doing quite well and I like him", Harry lied.

"I shan't keep you away. This is no evening to be discussing politics. Go and have fun".

"Enjoy your evening too", Harry offered a hand, which the Minister took. Harry got the idea that politics had already taken place: Cornelius with Harry. That was sure to become the latest buzz around the Ministry.

There was even more room buzz at the announced arrival of Augusta Longbottom and Neville. They knew the Madam Chairman of the Board of Governors, but never expected to see her here.

The real shock came at the announced arrivals of the Granger family. It was on thing, Harry's foster family who, at least, had some connection to the wizarding world as Petunia was a squib. Ted and Nichole were full-on muggles – the first to likely have ever set foot in Malfoy Manor. That Lucius and Narcissa greeted them with equal warmth helped settle down the guests enough to head off a scene, but a sizable contingent of guests weren't doing their best to conceal their contempt.

Harry and Luna fit right in, as their robes bore the crest of Slytherin. The other shocker was the Gryffindor crests on Hermione's and Neville's robes. There had been just one other Gryffindor ever to be seen at Malfoy Manor, a long time ago, before the Dark Lord's disappearance.

What didn't help was Xeno Lovegood's decidedly odd attire, though Luna wore her school robes as did the other Hogwartians. It wasn't usually the case where Luna fit in so well. It was apparent where she got it: the only daughter raised by a widower. Luna secretly hoped her father wouldn't embarrass the family by going on at unwanted lengths about his odd obsessions.

The Yule Ball was up to the highest standards, very much like any other high society ball, except for the floating trays carrying canapes, glasses of champagne, fire whiskey and tankards of butterbeer. The champagne and fire whiskey had age charms to prevent any underage drinking of anything harder than the mildly alcoholic butterbeer..

"Save some room for dinner", Vernon reminded Dudley who was all too eager to help himself to canapes.

The wizarding guests were most interested in Vernon's SUV as they'd never seen the inside of a muggle vehicle before. This suited Vernon just fine as he liked showing off his pride and joy.

"I never expected the inside to be so comfortable", one of the magicians who'd never been in a muggle vehicle commented.

"There are a lot of comforts", Vernon explained, "heat for winter, air conditioning for summer, and a radio for entertainment". He demonstrated.

"Sounds as good as any in home stereo".

"Fascinating", Vernon's guest said. "And it runs on dead animals?"

"Petrol, yes, it is considered a fossil fuel. That's my profession: the oil business".

The only thing the SUV lacked was the ability to fly.

After the fabulous meal, the guests broke off: the grown-ups in the main ballroom with chamber music while the kids had their own party room, with a live rock band. This being set up with disco balls, strobes and light sticks.

The evening was marred by a row between Lucius and Edmond Parkinson. No one knew what that was about, except that Edmond had dragged his wife and daughter from the Ball in a huff over something. No one noticed the small black book Edmond took with him. There was mention of it in the society page, a mar on an otherwise perfect evening.. What did get prominent mention was the attendance of Madam Longbottom, with speculation if the long running feud with Malfoy was over. Also, the invitations to the Grangers, and the Dursleys. That the Boy Who Lived was also there figured prominently, and the invitation of the editor of _The Quibbler_. Cause enough for Rita's speculations, all grist for the rumour mill.


	17. Christmas with the Weasleys

**Christmas with the Weasleys**

Harry spent the day after the Yuletide Ball, Christmas, home. Harry was relieved to learn that Aunt Marge had other plans. Apparently, she would be spending the holiday on the Continent with a new boyfriend. Harry found that a bit hard to believe, that there could possibly be a love interest for Marge. Petunia had owled Lucius Lutra an invitation to spend his first Christmas as a sapient animal with the Dursleys. He didn't let on that the very idea of Christmas left a very bad taste in his mouth: this was usually the first day of otter trapping season before it was outlawed. That wasn't the case for the US where it was still legal and Xmas the opening day of the war against his own kind. He understood the Dursleys were trying to do something nice, to spare his having to spend a special day alone, though, so far as he was concerned, the 25th of December was just another day. He'd apparated from North Devon before Harry and Dudley got up. After breakfast, Vernon played Santa and distributed the gifts. Dudley got more Sega video game cartridges, and a new PowerBook.

As for Lucius, he was gifted with a large package of top of the line smoked salmon, and a steel fire starter. They knew he heated his holt with dead fall, but were unaware of his magical ability to produce bluebell fire at will. Harry, what to do about Harry? A home knit sweater to help ward off the winter chill at Hogwarts, especially the dungeon where Snape's Potions class was held was most welcome. As for what else to get the up and coming wizard, Madam Longbottom was of invaluable assistance to Petunia. Harry got a delux Wizard Chess set, and a gift card, courtesy of Gringotts, he could use in Diagon Alley.

This left a mystery package wrapped in plain pink paper, tied with a bow. No one recognized it as their own, nor was there a card, except to say "For Harry". The package was very light, as though it contained nothing. Something looking as insubstantial as though weaved from butterfly wings dropped out.

"What do you suppose...", Vernon started.

"Looks like a cloak of some sort", Harry answered. He threw it over his shoulders to Petunia's shocked gasp.

"What?", Harry asked.

"Most of your body just disappeared", Vernon explained.

The only thing Harry could see in a mirror was his head. That, too, disappeared when he pulled the cloak up.

"What do you think?", Harry's disembodied voice asked.

Dudley snorted.

"You don't find that impressive?", Petunia asked.

"Meh, seen one invisible man, seen 'em all", he replied.

"Something else fell out", Lucius retrieved a note of parchment folded in half.

Harry read: "This Cloak of Invisibility was placed in my trust just before your father died. It is an ancient heirloom of the Potter family. I believe now is a good time to pass it along, as your father would have liked.

"Signed A. Dumbledore and Merry Christmas Harry"

"Something wrong?", Petunia asked.

"No, maw, nothing", he hoped he sounded convincing.

Harry wondered what the old bastard was up to this time. He found it hard to believe James would just lend out a family heirloom for safe keeping in case he should fall to a certain dark lord. That's what the family vaults and wills were for. Harry wondered how many other Potter family artifacts Dumbledore stole from the cottage the night he nearly died. Was that another of his schemes? Dole out more heirlooms over the years?

"Can I try it?", Dudley asked.

"Don't know if it'll work for you", as Harry handed over the Cloak. It did. It also worked for Vernon, and, of course Petunia – though everyone expected it to since she was a squib.

"Best to keep this well away from the Twins", Harry announced.

"Who?"

"Fred and George Weasley. They're always pulling semi-malicious pranks around the school. I hesitate to imagine the chaos they'd cause if they ever got their hands on an invisibility cloak".

"And you?", Vernon asked.

"I know better than that, and I've told them on numerous occasions I don't approve. I'm sure it will come in handy, but it won't be for that, or cheating on exams. I do want to make one thing perfectly clear: no one outside the immediate family needs to know that invisibility cloaks really exist".

"We know that, Harry", Dudley complained.

"I just want to be certain, that's all".

 **0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF**

The next day, Harry met up with Hermione at her home in Surrey. Xeno and Luna were already there, and Xeno would be portkeying them all to their home he called "the Rookery" outside of Ottery St Catchpole. Harry wondered if they lived with birds on the side of a cliff.

Once they arrived, it became obvious: the Lovegood home was in the shape of a black rook chess piece. It stood on a high hilltop across the town from the Weasley homestead: the Burrow. The usual muggle repelling charms, glamour charms, and perimeter wards kept the muggle population of Ottery St Catchpole from knowing it was there.

Xeno was proud to show off the home, and especially the upstairs office of _The Quibbler_. In one corner of the room, was a printing press looking like it came out of the 1800s. However, that was appearance only as it had every modern feature and then some. You could select your fonts, have the lay-outs done automatically, it could print images (the special, magical ones that moved like animated GIFs) and could translate handwriting with ink pot and quill from parchment onto printed pages, either matt or shiney. It was chugging away, spitting out tomorrow's edition. The newspapers looked as good as any professionally printed muggle publication.

Xeno was waxing eloquent about his latest obsession: the Crumple Horned Snorkak. He insisted the fantastical beast really did exist, and was already planning a summer long excursion to the wilds of Sweden to search for the evidence. Luna's summer plans had already been made, and Harry doubted Vernon would be allowing him to go all the way to Sweden for a visit.

"I don't mean to interrupt", Hermione apologized, "but isn't it time we headed out for the Weasleys?"

"Quite right, Miss Granger", Xeno said, "then let us be off"

The gate of the rail fence that surrounded the property challenged the approaching party, much as that of Malfoy Manor, but in a manner a good deal less hostile. The gate swung open as Xeno explained the invite. The path led to the front porch of a wooden, rustic, farm house large enough for the Weasley family.

"Do come in and make yourselves at home", Molly Weasley invited.

The inside looked like an explosion in a paper chain factory. A large banner hung across the room: "WELCOME HARRY!", it read. He felt a bit uneasy about that, and wondered briefly the reason. More unearned adoration from those he never met before for credit for something he hadn't really done? Molly took care of the introductions: her husband, Arthur, and the kids: Charlie, the oldest and the dragon master. He bore the marks of his profession, scars from old burns. Bill, the next oldest: a curse breaker who was working for Gringotts. Percy, currently Boys Prefect for Gryffindor. The Twins, Fred and George, the youngest and the only daughter: Ginny.

Ginny was the one who made the paper chains and the greeting banner. Upon meeting Harry, she could barely speak a word.

"Hhhhhhh-arry, wwwww-elcome. Iiiiiii… hope you have a pleasant evening with us".

It was obvious this was a very star-struck fan girl: "I'm sure I will, and thank you for the fabulous welcome", he said.

"Harry"

"Ron", Harry took his offered hand. " _Quiddich Through the Ages_ was a big help. Thanks".

Molly handed Harry a gift wrapped package.

"You didn't have to do that", he said.

"You're more than a guest", Molly explained.

Harry opened the package.

"Uh-oh!", Fred called out.

"Harry got a Weasley sweater...", George began.

"...You know what this means: you've been adopted", Fred finished that thought.

Sweaters were a Weasley tradition: knitted by Molly, decorated with the first letter of the recipient's first name. Harry's sweater was dark green, with Santas and holly leaves as decorations, and a big red 'H'.

"You really didn't have to do that..."

"Go on, put it on", the Twins urged.

Harry wasn't gonna argue the point, as the Burrow wasn't well insulated against the December wind.

The wireless, an appliance that looked like a muggle radio straight out of 1930, in a corner of the room was playing some really gawd-awful music:: something called _A Cauldron of Hot Steaming Love._ Harry wondered if the damn thing could play a cut from that new Nirvana album. Probably not, he decided.

Harry was looking at the decoration topping the Christmas tree.

"It's a garden gnome", George explained. "The bloody blighter bit me, so we stunned it, painted it gold and glued on those fairy wings".

"Isn't that, well, a bit cruel?"

"Guarantee you one thing: it'll think long and hard about biting anyone in the future"

"How about some Exploding Snaps?', Fred called out. "Me and George against Harry and Ron".

"I'd prefer me and George against Harry and Fred", Ron objected. "That way, you can't cheat".

"Would we do that?", Fred asked.

"On one condition", Harry said.

"And that would be?"

"Next go around, you include Luna and Hermione".

Harry suspected these Weasleys would go the whole evening, excluding his friends and not recognize how ill-mannered that would be.

"Come see my room!", Ginny insisted, dragging him along.

"Slow down", Harry complained.

Harry knew things were even worse than he expected. Every square centimeter of Ginny's bedroom walls were covered in articles clipped from the _Daily Prophet_ – every story about Harry.

"Would you autograph it, please?", as she held out a copy of Lockhart's _The Boy Who Lived: A True Story_.

"Ginny", he tried explaining as gently as possible, "that book is mostly nonsense. I never did any of that stuff Lockhart claims I did. In truth, Ginny, I never met the man. I'm no one's apprentice, secret or otherwise, I met Professor Dumbledore for the first time when I started the term; I've never been to Albania. And the only dragon I ever saw was Hagrid's pet: Norbert, and quite honestly, he scared the daylights out of me..."

"You… scared..."

"Yes, Ginny, even I get scared sometimes".

"Still..."

"OK, let's have it", Harry took the book to Ginny's desk, and inked a quill. "Just don't be believing Lockhart's nonsense, agreed?"

"Of course", she said, and Harry figured she'd say anything to get that autograph.

On the inside fly leaf he wrote: "To Ginny from Harry"

"Would you add 'with love'", she requested. Ginny beamed with delight as she hugged the book to her chest. "I'll treasure it _forever_.

"You don't… have a girlfriend?"

"I'm a bit too young to be thinking of that".

He couldn't help but notice how relieved Ginny looked at hearing that. She was worried when she noticed Harry's arrival with two girls.

Harry, Luna, and Hermione joined Remus by the fireplace.

"Remus", Harry greeted, "how was your Christmas?"

"Lonely, as always", he explained. "It's one of the sacrifices weres have to make. I'm always welcome here. I spend the holidays with my old comrade in arms", he didn't need to explain the reference to Arthur.

"Aren't there, like, you know, any girl weres?", Luna asked.

"A few, but relationships don't work out so swell".

They exchanged pleasantries, comparing the old Hogwarts experience with the new ones of this current crop of Firsties.

"How about that game?", Fred and George dragged Harry off.

"Go on, have fun", Remus encouraged.

The whole rest of the evening went uncomfortably, between constantly needing to remind the Twins and Ron to include Hermione and Luna in Exploding Snaps and Wizard Chess. Harry did discover that Ron was good at something besides running his big yap, and a talent for saying the wrong things at the wrong times: he bested everyone at Chess. Not to mention the cow eyes Ginny flashed his way across the dinner table. Her announcement of her excitement at going to Hogwarts next year, her resolve to get into Slytherin, much to the chagrin of Molly and Arthur, to be in Harry's House. Molly had to remind her youngest that Gryffindor was the Weasleys' House, and that all her brothers were Gryffindor's.

Then there was Molly's hyper maternal instincts. The Weasley's had a mantle clock, or at least that's what it looked like at first glance. The difference were multiple hands, each with one of the Weasleys' names. The dial had indications such as "Work", "School", "Safe", "Insecure", "Caution", "Danger", "Mortal Danger". This device tracked the whereabouts of every member of the family constantly in real time. Harry disliked the lack of privacy. He was glad the muggles didn't have anything like that "clock".

Harry also discovered that the Twins weren't joking about a Weasley sweater's being the sign of a _de facto_ "adoption". He'd received insistent proclamations that he would just _have to_ visit the Burrow during the summer break. Harry made polite non-committals about summer visits.

As Harry was making his way back to the Rookery, a suspicion was developing...


	18. The Long Drag

**The Long Drag**

The day after New Years saw Harry on the Express. New Years marked that long, winter drag until the next holiday: Easter. Nothing to look forward to but steel skies, snow, snow, and more snow, and biting highland winds. The trip was uneventful, just expanses of nearly featureless white sliding past the windows.

At Hogsmeade Station, everyone was informed they would be taking the carriages as Black Lake had frozen over. Of course, by now, the Firsties shouldn't be so clueless as to require all the attention that beating the upperclassmen to and from the castle ensured they'd receive. As with every routine occasion, Hogwarts had a Feast. As usual everyone had to sit through another one of Dumbledore's speeches.

So far, Harry's New Year was going considerably better than Dudley's. Petunia made a Resolution for him: a new diet. Vernon's Resolution for Dudley was more physical activity. That directly impacted his two most favorite activities: eating and Sega. Harry wolfed his breakfast to catch up with Hagrid.

"Ah juss wanted to say tankee fer yer giff". Bess Chris'mus evah".

"You're quite welcome", Harry said, "just happy I could make it happen for you".

"Aye, a bit o' trubble navigatin' Heathrow, but dere was plenny of frienly folks to hepps me exchange tickets fer bordin' passes. Nice feller offered to trade seats so's Ah could have a winder seat, bein' Ah never flew innyting but Sirius' motorbike beferr.

"Charlie's dragon keepers met me at Transylvania an' we went on up ter thuh Dragon Perserve. Had Chinese Fireballs, Welsh Greens, Hungarian Horntails, and Nerrwegian Ridgebacks. Seen Norbert in thuh nurs'rey, an he groan laik uh weed. Yer shud'a seen him, he's boud dis long now (holding hands about a meter apart). Be unudder seven year beferr he fully m'ture, an Charlie say he gwan be uh fyne spess'min. Thuh care I gave him could'na been inny better, he say.

"Even let me take a turn wiff hand'lin one err two. Dass how I got diss".

Hagrid showed a burn mark on his hand and arm.

"Nasty burn", Harry said.

"Tink nuttin uvit. It whirr worf it. Can't tankee enuff, Harry".

That was about the last good thing for this day. As soon as Harry entered the Common Room, all conversation stopped as fast as if an "off" switch had been tripped. Eyes glared at him.

"What?", he asked.

"You should choose your friends more wisely", Bode – a Third Year Quiddich player and Harry's team mate said as he walked past, deliberately shouldering him aside. About half the room began to clear out.

"Pansy?", he asked as he stopped his best friend among the girls.

She turned to him with tears in her eyes: "Don't..."

"Pansy, talk to me..."

"Father has forbidden it… if he knew… Please, Harry, I can't talk; I can't see you… What Father would do to me if he found out...", it was obvious that even this snippet of "conversation" made her extremely anxious.

Suddenly, Harry, Draco, Greg and Luna found themselves _personae non grata_. Crabbe was one of the "deserters". Millicent Bulstrode, being just another Hogwartian who happened to be sorted into Slytherin explained:

"It's Draco's father: Avery came in, raging that Lucius had betrayed the Dark Lord".

"He did no such thing!", Draco defended. "All he did was give up a cause that was lost before I was ever born. The Dark Lord is dead and gone..."

"He _isn't!_ He _promised_ to return, and he _will!_ When the Dark Lord returns", Evan Mulciber threatened, "I wouldn't want to be within a 100 kilometers of your shoes, Malfoy… Or _yours_ , Potter".

"That's absurd", Harry objected, "Voldemort's had ten years; if he isn't back by now, he's not coming back. Period. He's either dead - and Dumbledore tells me there's no magic that can reverse that – or he's laying low, has given up on his great cause, and is just trying to avoid the aurors and the justice he earned for himself during his last rampage..."

"How _dare_ you, Potter..."

"How dare I what? Say his name: Voldemort? Point out the blindingly obvious? You're forgetting: I dealt with him before and that didn't work out so swell for your Dark Lord, did it? What the fuck does what Mr Malfoy may or may not have done before any of us were born have _anything_ to do the here and now? What happened to 'We're Slytherins, we depend on no one but ourselves because we can't depend on anyone else'?"

"That doesn't apply to you, Potter, you aren't Slytherin material, especially after what you did to the Dark Lord. You associate with losers like that Hufflepuff: Diggory and all those Chickendores, and if _that_ weren't bad enough, you bring in outsiders".

"I don't recall hearing any complaints about Luna when she was helping you with your homework..."

"You have a choice: Slytherin or these traitors".

"You already know my answer".

"Dear Merlin no!", Luna was on the verge of tears, "It's Ravenclaw all over again", she said when everyone else exited the Common Room.

"No, it isn't", Harry reassured. "We still have each other, and we have each others' backs.

"You can count me in", Blaise Zambini offered. "I don't have a dog in this fight; my parents weren't Voldemort's followers. One team mate to another". Blaise was one of the Chasers.

"I know what it's like to be bullied", Millicent Bulstrode said. She was a big girl, and had been teased over her looks at muggle school. "Luna can count on me… she's been a big help, so I can return the favour".

"See? It won't be Ravenclaw all over again", Harry reassured Luna. "Best be getting to class".

Harry recalled: the Yule Ball, after Edmond Parkinson had requested a private word with Lucius, the noisy argument that broke out. The voices too muffled to understand a single work, but the anger was unmistakable, his subsequent gathering Pansy and his wife for an early departure in a huff. The prickliness of many of the other guesses. Harry figured he had just found out which alumni were Death Eaters.

The next private class with Remus saw the absence of both Pansy and Vince.

"I'm sorry, Professor...", Harry started.

"Just Lupin or Remus", he reminded once again.

"Your class will be short from now on. Vince's and Pansy's parents have forbidden them to attend, or have anything to do with us. Sorry this will cut into your tuition".

"What happened?"

"It had something to do with the Yule Ball", Harry explained. "Draco's Dad was accused of being a traitor to... Whatshisname", Harry remembered not to call him "Voldemort" in Lupin's presence, "I don't know the details, but it was clearly an angry argument they were having".

"That's… interesting", Lupin said.

"How do you mean?", Harry asked.

"Never mind, now onto today's lesson..." Harry knew he wouldn't be getting any more details. Of course, he was well aware that Lupin, like Madam Longbottom, had unspoken reservations about his association with the Malfoys.

 **0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF**

"Do come in, Remus".

"Albus", Lupin greeted.

"What have you learned?", Dumbledore asked.

"It concerns Harry, and some of his friends. I've lost two of my students, and Harry explained that some of the parents are upset with Mr. Potter. It would seem that Lucius Malfoy was recently accused of turning against Hewhomustnotbenamed..."

"That is absurd", Snape drawled. "Few were as fanatical in their support".

"I thought so too. After all, we were classmates of Lucius and Narcissa. Two of his most fanatical followers. Yet, there was something going on at that Ball, something that greatly upset Parkinson...", Lupin paused. "Aren't you Draco's godfather?"

"Indeed I am", Snape confirmed.

"Then why don't _you_ ask him?"

"That would be most inadvisable", Snape objected. "You of all people should know why".

"I'm aware of that, Severus, but there's no denying what everyone saw: Parkinson storming from Malfoy Manor, wife and daughter in tow, and now Pansy was forbidden to associate with us. She dropped out. If you had a word with Madam Longbottom: she was there".

"I shall look into it, next time I'm at the Ministry", Albus promised. "I would also suggest keeping an open mind as to the possibility that the Malfoys have left the Dark Side".

"None too likely", Lupin disagreed.

Hermione came up unexpectedly short while researching the name Harry and Draco had seen on the Marauder's Map. The only thing she could verify was that a Tom Riddle had been a student during the 1950s. Other than that, the record looked to be scrubbed: no school records, no information as to who the family was, no background at all. The head librarian, Ms. Pince, could only say that what records remained were in the restricted section, and that was accessible only with the Headmaster's permission. Not even Hermione's special relationship with the librarian could get her even a brief look-see. Why a routine matter of the public record was so off-limits was perplexing, to say the least.

The first Quiddich match of the new year was Slytherin versus Gryffindor. Harry learned how much worse things would become as he joined his team mates to suit up for practice.

Marcus Flint took him aside: "You're off the team", he told Harry. "I'm assigning Seeker to Julius". This would be Julius Slade, the second year Harry had outplayed in the try-out.

"What are you saying?", Harry asked, perplexed. "Gryffindor is tough… You _need_ me..."

"Need I remind you, there is no 'I' in 'team', nor do I need to justify my decisions as team captain to you or anyone else. You're out, that's final, and don't bother talking to Snape about it. Good day, Mr. Potter".

Blaise could only give him a wordless look of disappointment. The rest of the team knew they didn't stand a chance without their star Seeker.

Harry knew better than to complain to Snape, as he wouldn't interfere with Team Slytherin's affairs. All he could do was wonder whose decision it really was: Flint's or the Death Eater contingent among the alumni.

"I enjoyed it while it lasted", was Harry's parting comment.

Snape, being the Head of House, noticed. Everyone noticed, despite Slytherin's rule that differences should be confined to the Common Room. The change was obvious: Harry, Draco, Draco's remaining sidekick Greg, Luna, Blaise, and Millicent were always sitting apart at the table, nor were the rest of the Slytherins doing much to interact. Not to mention his absence from the Quiddich pitch where Gryffindor trounced Slytherin.

"You're not playing?", Ron asked. "Anything wrong?"

"Other than that some of the parents disapprove of me and my parents, everything's peachy", Harry explained. "Flint cut me from the team".

"Bloody hell..."

"I can't talk about it", Harry knew if he said any more, it would be all over the school, given Ron's big mouth.

"I'd say 'I'm sorry', mate, but considering how this helps Gryffindor's chances for the Cup, I can't say I'm too sorry", Ron explained in his usual, socially inept, way.

"I'm sure you're not alone", Harry agreed.

 **0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF**

"What did I tell you, Mr, Pot-ter, about making trouble for me?" Snape requested he stay over after Potions.

"With all due respect, Professor, what are you referring to?"

"It has come to my attention that there are problems among my students. What have you done this time, Mr. Pot-ter?"

"Aside from my parents' being in opposition to Voldemort..."

"Don't say that name, Mr. Pot-ter".

"Sorry, Professor, aside from Jame's and Lily's opposition to Whatshisname, and that they didn't join his Death Eater ranks, nothing. It would seem the immediate descendants of our Death Eater alumni had some problems with my being in Slytherin. There was also some sort of falling out between Pansy's father and Draco's. No idea what that was all about".

"Don't be making those kinds of accusations lightly, Mr. Pot-ter".

"No, Sir. I'm not making accusations, just observations. I was there when Mr. Malfoy and Mr. Parkinson had some sort of falling out. Pansy just told me she was forbidden to have anything to do with us, even talk. Not too hard to figure over what".

"Keep it to yourself, and don't let this go beyond the Common Room. I don't need any more aggravation from you. You are dismissed".

Luna was expecting the kind of bullying she'd received at the hands of the Ravenclaw girls. She was relieved to see that ostracism, bad as that was, was, so far, the worst. She could live with that. Harry would have preferred George and Fred style pranking. This seemed too much like the calm before the storm.

The first week of February saw that "storm" begin to break.

"Draco!", Harry called out.

"Huh? What?"

"Someone's been fucking with my trunk". One of the features of the trunk was an intrusion alert. "Better take a look-see at yours", Harry advised as he began to levitate out the contents. So far, his hidden compartments had gone unnoticed.

"Anything missing?", Draco asked.

"So far, nothing"

It wasn't until the very end: he noticed a wadded up sock at the bottom of the pile. He knew he didn't put it there. He carefully unwrapped whatever it was.

"What's that?", Draco asked.

"Merlin First Class ring", Harry showed it to him. He was careful not to touch it, to avoid finger prints. "Mulciber", he read the name.

"Where'd that come from?"

"Guess. Anything?", Harry asked.

"Mine's fine", Draco said after going trough his trunk. "Why do you suppose..."

"Tippy!", Harry called out.

"Master call Tippy?", the Hogwarts house elf appeared at once.

"I need you to take this, and return it to Evan Mulciber's room".

"Tippy let him know Master Harry found it".

"Don't do that. I need you to place it there surreptitiously..."

"Sir… sir…?"

"Without anyone's seeing you do it; without anyone's knowing about it. Put the ring under his dorm mate's bed, way back in a corner where it's unlikely anyone will see it. Make sure you tell all the elves who clean the dorms to not disturb it. Don't get your fingerprints on it".

"Tippy shall do as Master requires".

"I know I can count on you".

"Tippy thanks".

The next evening, Harry wasn't surprised when Snape showed up with Filch and Mulciber.

"Would you wait in the Common Room, Mr Malfoy", Snape drawled at Draco. He left quickly, desiring not to draw any attention here.

"It would seem I am to be rid of you, Pot-ter. Stealing from a fellow student, let alone a house mate, is not tolerated here at Hogwarts".

"I have no idea what you're talking about", Harry protested.

"He took my grandfather's ring my father gave me. I saw him take it".

"Open your trunk", Snape drawled. Harry complied.

"This is absurd", he protested. "See for yourself: I have nothing to hide".

"That, Mr. Pot-ter, remains to be seen", Snape half gloated.

"Stand aside", Filch ordered as he began to throw the contents on the floor.

"Before Mr. Filch here ruins my stuff, would you try the Summoning Charm?", Harry requested of Snape.

"He probably put a sticking charm on it", Mulciber said, "so of course he'd say that".

"Just try it before Filch here ruins all my shit".

"Respect, Mr. Pot-ter. Very well", Snape took out his wand.

"Accio Evan Mulciber's ring".

The missing ring flew through the open door, into Snape's hand. "Is this your ring?", he asked.

There was no denying it. "I... must have dropped it...", Evan started. "I thought… A misunderstanding..."

"Any way to see where it came from?", Harry asked.

Snape cast a charm that replayed the flight of the ring from under the bed, through a gap between the door and the floor.

"You heard him say he saw me take it. What would you consider the greater offense", Harry asked of the care taker, "stealing from a fellow student, or lying about seeing a student stealing from a fellow student?"

"Quite", Filch agreed.

"I shall take this up with the Headmaster", Snape drawled.

"I have a nice broom closet for you", Filch threatened. At least he wouldn't be denied the opportunity to inflict punishment on a student.

"But...", Evan started.

" _Don't_ ", Snape replied, "make it any worse than it already is, Mr. Mulciber".

"Good evening, Mr. Pot-ter", was all Snape had to say. Of course, no apology.

The next day, the student was making all sorts of threats: "Wait till Father hears about this! He will make sure you regret this!"

Dumbledore agreed that expulsion for lying about Harry was more than warranted.

"Your father is still in Azkaban", Snape reminded.

"Not for long! Not after the Dark Lord returns!"

"Try, Mr. Mulciber, to have a little dignity. Don't make me use a Body Bind and Silencing Charm on you", Snape threatened.

The Gryffindor students took too much delight in seeing one of Slytherin's being marched from Hogwarts, and all too many Slytherins were blaming Harry for this latest incident that reflected poorly on their House.

"You'd best look out, Potter", Ted Nott threatened.

Between classes, Harry retired to the library.

 _Dear Lucius:_

 _The situation has taken a turn for the worst. Ever since Christmas break, I and our friends have become most unwelcome here at Slytherin House. Pansy said she could no longer talk or be with me: her father's orders. We also lost Vince Crabbe. Something to do with the other Lucius and some incident between Edmond Parkinson. No one knows what happened, other than a nasty scene almost ruined the Ball._

 _I was informed I was cut from the Quiddich team for no explanation. Then Evan Mulciber tried to frame me for theft, but I found out about the attempt in time to thwart his plan, and he got expelled instead._

 _No progress on the Tom Riddle front either. All we know is that he was definitely attending Hogwarts about forty years ago. As for other records, they don't seem to exist anymore, at least not here at Hogwarts, or they're sealed away in the restricted section._

 _Harry_

He headed for the owlry.

"Sorry to be sending you out", Harry apologized as he tied the letter to Hedwig's leg, "but I need you to get this to Lucius' holt".

The owl gave a brief bark as he opened the window to let Hedwig out.

"He's back", Harry announced after lights out. Draco didn't need to ask: Harry had the clandestine receiver out. Up till now, it had been quiet on the Quirrel front.

" _...No, Master, please, not that..."_

They'd missed the first part of the conversation.

" _You need to take care of us, so see to it. One other thing, we don't need any more incidents involving Potter like that stunt Mulciber's son attempted. While I appreciate loyalty, I don't need the over zealous calling too much attention to themselves. I need you to contact the parents to have them warn their students to back off. We shall deal with Potter in our own good time and way"._

" _I'll get off owl posts..."_

" _As for the artifact..."_

" _Forgive me, Master, but it's Snape and his interference. He's always patrolling the third floor corridor. I can't risk being caught, what would I say?"_

" _You can do nothing?"_

" _Snape's Dumbledore's man, and I can be sure there is nothing he holds back. It won't be too much longer"._

" _Then you have Dumbledore's protections figured out?"_

" _I don't, but I know who does. They will do the work for us..."_

" _You keep saying that..."_

" _By Easter..."_

" _Don't try my patience. I don't have much patience"._

"What could he be up to now?", Draco asked.

"No idea, but maybe we caught a break here. If the Death Eater scions back off, all the better for us. Let the others know ASAP".

Two days later, Hedwig was back to drop off an envelope at breakfast. Harry pocketed it quickly, and hopefully inconspicuously. The return letter was written on plain paper, and in ball point, as he didn't believe in using quills.

 _Dear Harry:_

 _This is a nasty turn of events, and I concur with your conclusion: this isn't over. It's too bad about losing the Quiddich position, but these fanatics don't consider a school Quiddich Cup important enough to overlook your lack of loyalty to their lord and master._

 _As for your inquiry about Thomas Riddle, I have discovered a few things via the Internet. It would seem that the name, Thomas Marvolo Riddle is registered in muggle records. He was born 31 December, 1938. Mother's name: Merope Riddle, nee Gaunt. Father: Thomas Riddle Sr, of Little Hangleton. It would seem they had been married, and that is also registered in muggle records. As is the divorce. Merope died shortly after giving birth. Thomas Marvolo Riddle spent his childhood at Wool's Orphanage. After that, there are no further records. It's not much to go on, and there wouldn't be after he started Hogwarts. As for Wool's, it doesn't seem to be in business any more._

 _As for Merope Gaunt, I get nothing. For Thomas Riddle Sr, loads of records. This was obviously a muggle family. The Riddles were long time land owners, local aristocracy, and quite wealthy. They had a manor house just outside of town. There was a famous case: the whole family was discovered dead under some very mysterious circumstances. They were still sitting around the dinner table, having been discovered by the gardener the next morning. Suspicion immediately fell on him, he was arrested and held for a time. The authorities couldn't determine a cause of death: no poison, no sign of violence or other foul play. They just simply died for no apparent reason. Also, no motive either. No one stepped forward to lay claim to either the manor or the family assets. That's as much as I can do here on my end. Hope it helps._

 _Take Care,_

 _Lucius Lutra_

A few days later, Hagrid told Harry about another unicorn poaching incident.

 **0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF**

The Easter break was coming up, and that meant another round of mid-term exams which had all classes on edge. The overt hostility had cooled enough to not be such a distraction, though Pansy Parkinson was still avoiding Harry. At least Luna was involved with helping other Second Years study for their exams.

It was some time after lights out when one of the house elf message runners woke Harry and Draco.

"Many pardons, but Master Longbottom is waiting outside. He insists it's a most urgent matter".

"Tell him we'll be there in a few seconds".

Harry and Draco pulled on robes and headed for the Common Room.

"Thank Merlin!", Neville greeted.

"What's this all about? You have any idea what time?", Draco complained.

"About 1:00AM", Neville answered. "It's Ron… he said he was leading Hermione, Dean Thomas, Seamus Finnigan and Lavender Brown to get the treasure on the third floor. He was going on and on about how the forbidden third floor corridor was a test of courage, that no one else was going for it, but he was going to show Dumbledore he wasn't afraid. He wanted me to come along, but I refused. Ron pulled his wand and hit me with the Stupify. I struggled against it, and came here as soon as I broke it".

"C'mon!", Harry practically dragged Neville into the Common Room.

There was still a lick of flame in the fireplace. Harry took the tin of Floo Powder from the mantle, and threw a pinch into the flames, turning them emerald green.

"London. Ministry of Magic, Department of Magical Law Enforcement!", he called out before sticking his head into the fire.

He looked around, it was an expansive office, but he saw no activity.

"Hello!", He called out, "Anyone there? It's an emergency!"

Fortunately, the office wasn't entirely deserted.

"Can I help you?", a clerk or secretary answered.

"Harry Potter. I'm at Hogwarts, Slytherin Common Room. A group of five Firsties are going to a forbidden part of the castle that's dangerous. I'm afraid for their safety. We need the aurors..."

"Stay where you are, I'll send the aurors through the Floo".

"We have to go...", Neville was pulling on Harry's arm.

"You heard: he said wait".

"What if they're too late? Harry!"

"When seconds count the police are minutes away"

"What..."

"Never mind", Harry said, "You stay here, and Draco and I will check on that idiot Ron".

"I'm coming..."

"No, you're not. We need someone to stay here to show the aurors where to go".

Draco and Harry ran through the corridors, not caring if they were caught. He could always stun Filch or anyone else, and apologize later.

Wands out, Harry and Draco approached the forbidden entrance carefully and silently. The hinges creaked softly as Harry pushed open the now unlocked door. Draco couldn't help gasp at the sight of Fluffy, the enormous Cerberus. All three heads were sound asleep, a music box playing a calming tune.

"Bloody hell..."

"Meet Fluffy. Hagrid said he'll be out so long as the music plays", Harry whispered.

It took him a few seconds to spot the trap door.

"Help me move his paw", Harry requested.

One of Fluffy's massive paws was straight across the door, blocking the way.

"You sure about this?", Draco asked.

"Just go slow, nice and easy".

Fluffy stirred briefly, and snorted quietly, the jaws of the center head smacking a few times. The dog rolled away from the door. Harry pulled it open, seeing nothing but dark.

"Lumos", he light his wand and dropped it down the opening.

"Looks like a twenty foot drop", he said, "a bit of a hard landing", he said as he sat down, legs dangling over the edge. He eased his way into the opening, hanging by fingertips before dropping.

"It's OK", he called up.

Draco was wondering if this was such a swell idea when they heard the music stop. Fluffy noticed.

" _Moveyourass!_ ", Harry called out.

Draco didn't need convincing as he jumped through the opening, as one of Fluffy's massive heads filled the trap door above them, slobbering and barking.

They found Dean Thomas in the room. His arms burned red and blistering. Harry cast a numbing spell.

"It's that damn fool Ron", he explained. "When we arrived, we saw we weren't the first. There was a music box playing, and we jumped into some sort of plant we thought was just to cushion the drop. That's when it began to wrap around us, strangling us. Ron used a Confringo, set it on fire, and how I got this. He ordered the rest to move on, leaving me".

"Hang in there", Harry said. "The aurors are on their way; it shouldn't be too long..."

"Just make sure the rest are alright. They went that way", he pointed to a door.

The next room was a giant chess set. Chess pieces lay scattered about, blown apart. A life sized Wizard Chess game. The game was still in progress as Seamus Finnigan lay on the ground.

"I think he's got a concussion", Harry said.

Harry transfigured a piece of broken chess piece into a blanket to wrap around the wounded Gryffindor.

"I need you to stay with him", Harry told Draco. "Keep him talking, keep him conscious".

The next ordeal lay beyond the chess set, which obviously guarded the entrance unless you played your way to victory. Harry knew Ron was good at chess, and he began to get an idea…

The next room was filled with flying keys, like birds. They flew around the room in lazy circles. A broom was waiting, so it was necessary to fly up and catch the key that unlocked the door to the next ordeal. This time, Harry didn't need the broom. One key was barely able to fly at all, its wings mangled by being caught twice already. He jumped up, grabbed it.

The rest of the keys transformed into an angry swarm. This left Harry just seconds to unlock the door, and slam it closed. He heard the keys banging and pecking at the other side of the door.

"Harry?", it was Lavender Brown.

This room had two doors, the one he just stepped through, and which instantly filled with black fire. The far door filled with purple flames. Both heat sources were already making the room warm.

"They told me to wait here", she explained. "There wasn't enough for all of us".

There were seven bottles of different sizes and shapes along a table. A parchment read:

 _Danger lies before you, safety behind  
_ _Two of us will help you, which ever you would find  
_ _One among us seven will let you move ahead  
_ _Another will transport the drinker back instead  
_ _Two among our number hold only nettle wine  
_ _Three of us are killers, waiting hidden in the line  
_ _Choose, unless you wish to remain here forevermore  
_ _To help you make a wise choice, we give these clues four  
_ _First, no matter how slyly the poison tries to hide,  
_ _You will always find some on nettle wine's left side  
_ _Second, those are different who stand at either end  
_ _But if you would move onward, neither are your friend  
_ _Third, as you can clearly see, all are of different size  
_ _Neither dwarf nor giant hold death on the inside  
_ _Fourth, the second on the left, and the second on the right  
_ _Are twins once you taste them, though different at first sight_

"Oh for fuck's sake...", Harry said under his breathe. "Hermione solved this", he said to Lavender.

He recalled Hermione's saying once that wizards were not good when it came to logic puzzles. This is why Ravenclaw's Common Room was protected with a door knocker that demanded the solution to word puzzles to grant access as opposed to passwords.

"Yes, it was the little one", Lavender pointed out. Ron and Hermione used the last of it".

"Did anyone disturb the bottles?"

"Not so far as I can tell. They were like that when we got here".

If this were true, then the round, purple bottle on the extreme right held the go back potion.

"Hold onto this", as he handed her that bottle. "This is the go-back potion. I hope there's enough to get all of us out".

"Who?"

"You, me, and the aurors who should be here soon"

He set aside the rest of the bottles, and upended the table. He transfigured it into a steel arch that he levitated into the purple flames.

"When the aurors get here", he explained, "send them through".

Harry stepped through the arch that deflected the purple fire.

Quirrel had Ron by the scruff of the neck, before the Mirror of Erised.

"What do you see?", he demanded.

"Oh, I look older… and Dumbledore is handing me the House Cup… I'm Head Boy… and captain of the Quiddich team… and we won the Quiddich Cup..."

"Useless!", Quirrel pushed him aside.

"Ahhhhh… Mr. Potter: so good of you to join us", Quirrel greeted. "Drop that wand or your little friend here gets sent home in a box", he threatened.

"Haaaaaa… rrrrrrry", Ron squeaked.

Harry tossed aside his student wand.

"A wise choice. Come here!", he demanded.

"What do you see?"

"Myself", he said, as he knew what this mirror was. "Wait, something's appearing..."

Harry clearly saw himself in the mirror. He was holding something crystalline, and he put it in his pocket. At the same time, he felt a lump in the inside pocket of his robe.

"It's my parents", Harry lied, "at least I think so… is that me as a baby? They're smiling down at me… and are those other people in the background my relatives standing around..."

"You're lying!", Quirrel accused. "I can see the Stone, but how do I retrieve it from the mirror?"

"I'm not seeing any stone… Hi, Mom; hi Dad", as he waved to the image that really wasn't there.

"Of course he is", came another voice. "Let me speak with the boy".

"Are you sure?", Quirrel asked.

"Do it".

Quirrel unpinned his turban and began to unwrap it. He turned around, and the reason for the turban became obvious. A face occupied the back of the professor's head. A pallid, snake-like face with only the beginnings of a nose with slits for nostrils, blood red, reptilian eyes with thin vertical pupils.

A puddle formed at Ron's feet. He fainted dead away.

"Harry Potter. I'm pleased with how you've grown. You look so much like your father, James. I don't suppose you recall our first meeting?", Voldemort asked.

"Can't say I do, nor is the feeling mutual".

"Look at what you did to me; look at what I've become. Having to share bodies, having a half life. I should be quite angry with you, however, I am willing to overlook our differences. Hand over that Stone, and I shall reward you richly. Power, gold, immortality – all can be yours, and all you have to do is one simple thing".

"I don't think so..."

"Your parents deluded themselves into believing they were fighting for right. There is no good and evil, Harry, just power and those with the will to wield it over those who don't. Which are you, Harry? Do you have the will, or are you going to be like your pathetic parents who died, crying and begging for their lives? Your parents didn't bother to put up a fight"

"Go fuck yourself"

Voldemort hit Harry with the Body Bind.

"Harry, since you mentioned fucking, I'm sure you shall find this most entertaining".

Hermione was released from her Body Bind. Quirrel waved his wand, and Hermione's clothes disappeared. She stood there, completely naked. He levitated her horizontal, legs up and spread wide

The Quirell half of this composite person stroked Hermione's cheek. She flinched away from his touch.

"Such a pretty girl... How old are you?'

"Eeeeee-lllllevn"

"Plenty old enough"

"Break in her pussy right", Voldemort said to Quirrel, as he began to undo his trousers. "And when he's done with you, I shall cast a spell of your ovaries. You are to become the mother of a dynasty of dark wizards, the likes of which this world has never known. You should feel fortunate to have been selected for this role"

"No, please...", Hermione started. "Please! Don't do this!", tears rolled down her cheeks.

"Cry some more", Voldemort said. "Your boyfriend here has the power to stop those tears. All he has to do is hand over what belongs to me".

Harry figured that Voldemort was going to do that anyway, Stone or no Stone. Then he was going to eliminate Harry and Ron: no power, gold, or immortality for anyone other than Voldemort.

"NOOOOOOOO! _YOU_ ** _SICK_** _BASTARD_ _S_ _!_ ", Harry screamed.

The blast of incidental magic broke his Body Bind, smashed the Mirror of Erised, and threw Quirrel into the wall. Harry grabbed the wrist of his wand hand. Quirrel screamed, dropped the wand, and held his injured hand.

"What sort of magic is this?!", he asked.

"This kind", Harry replied as he grabbed both faces with both hands. Quirrel and Voldemort screamed as they burned in a fire Harry didn't feel. Quirrel dropped to the floor. Harry was on top of him, pounding his fists into Voldemort's face.

"MR POTTER!"

Amelia Bones are her aurors were just now arriving. Harry stood up. A black, wraith-like form arose form Quirrel, flew about the room once, then shot straight through Harry, and into the back wall.

Poppy Pomphrey was by Quirrel's side: "He's alive, but there's nothing I can do for him. I can make him comfortable, but that's it, I'm afraid. He has, maybe, an hour or two... at most".

"You saw, you all saw. It was him. It was Voldemort. Now if you'll excuse me".

Hermione was still stuck in that very compromising position in front of everyone. "Finite incantatum", Harry neutralized the spell as he wrapped his robe around her as he helped her stand.

"I'll see to her", one of Pomphrey's nurses said as she began to lead her away. "Come, my Dear".

Ron, who missed all the "excitement" was regaining consciousness, or at least decided it was now safe to stop playing possum.

"I'm still claiming the treasure..."

"RON!", Harry started. "There is no treasure! There never was! I don't know where you get these ideas..."

"That's _enough_ , Mr Potter", Bones interrupted. "You have a lot of explaining to do here".

"What's to explain?"

"We have a student assaulting a professor, and being the cause of his death. I think that's plenty cause to take you to the Ministry".

"Protecting innocent life, preventing a rape, where is your case? You saw for yourself".

Dumbledore, McGonagall and the rest of the Heads of House were arriving.

"Harry?", McGonagall asked.

"Albus! Percival! Wolfric! Brian! Dumbledore! _What_ is the _meaning_ of this?! I get an emergency call to come to Hogwarts, and _this_ is what I find?!", Amelia Bones accused. "What did I tell you about any further involvement of my office?"

"If I may, Madam Bones", Harry started. "The headmaster was keeping a Philosopher's Stone here in this room, in that mirror", Harry pointed to the smashed mirror. "He said it was a Mirror of Erised, and that's where he hid it. We could all see the Stone, but none of us knew how to get it out. That's what had Voldemort so angry".

"I see… is this true?", Bones asked.

"Where is the Stone?", Dumbledore asked.

"It was in there", Harry repeated, "but it broke when I released accidental magic after Quirrel threatened to rape Hermione".

"This is the most _irresponsible_ … I find an eleven year old boy beating one of your professors to death, a naked eleven year old girl, and a Philosopher's Stone hidden in a castle filled with children. I will certainly take this up with the Board of Governors".

"That is, of course, your right", Dumbledore said in that calm, grandfatherly, manner, "however I would advise against such a course of action..."

"Are you _threatening_ me, Albus?"

"I would never do that, Madam Bones. No harm came to the children, and the Dark Lord was prevented from acquiring the Stone. As for the unfortunate Professor Quirrel, can he really be held accountable? He was possessed, after all".

"You had a possessed professor teaching children for nearly a year, and you're telling me you didn't know? It's _your_ responsibility to know!"

"I'm sure you can appreciate how formidable Voldemort's magic is, even in a weakened state. Let us lay this to rest".

"You aren't going to sweep this under any rugs, Albus. Not this time", Bones stated. "Now if you will excuse me, I have an investigation to conduct.

"And you, Mr Weasley, I will see you expelled along with these friends of yours..."

"Before you do that, would you have Madam Pomphrey check him and the rest for compulsions. I know Hermione, and it isn't like her to be doing something like this".

"Very well, Mr Potter", Bones promised.

Once again, Harry found himself, being grilled by the head of the DMLE, as two aurors stood by. He went through the entire story from the time Neville sent a message via house elf.

"Why did you disregard orders to wait?", Bones asked.

"We thought it best", Harry explained. "It didn't look like we had the time to wait. It was the right decision, considering how he was threatening Ron and Hermione".

"Just how did you, a first year student wizard, expect to overcome an experienced professor?"

"I don't know. As I said before, I didn't really have much choice. For some reason, Quirrel couldn't stand my touch. That's how I took him down. I really can't explain it".

"How did you come to know what was hidden in that room?"

"I'd prefer not to say".

"Are you protecting someone?"

"No comment"

"Let me assure you, in a case like this, no harm will come to a material witness".

"Very well, it was Professor Hagrid. Once you get him started about his critters, he doesn't know when to shut up. He told me all about Fluffy..."

"That would be that beast we encountered at first".

"Yes, and he told me all about how he couldn't really recommend him as a guard dog as he wasn't trained for that, and how he fell asleep to music. He let slip about Nicholas Flammel and the Philosopher's Stone".

"I see, and I assure you: Hagrid won't lose his job over this. No need to involve him beyond his help with calling off his… ummmmmm… Fluffy".

Harry was relived to hear that as he certainly didn't want to tell all about Lucius Lutra.

"Where is this Philosopher's Stone?"

"It was in the mirror last time I saw it. I suppose it was destroyed along with the mirror".

"You didn't retrieve it?"

"With all due respect, I was more concerned about Hermione and what that sick, sick, bastard was going to do to her than some damn stone. I certainly wouldn't give it to Voldemort, and so I wanted it to stay where it was: inaccessible".

Amelia Bones found his explanation plausible, having no reason to doubt it.

"I think this clears everything up. I doubt there will be any further involvement once I file my report. I can't make any promises, however".

"There is one more thing".

"And that would be?"

"How do you arrange to meet an inmate at Azkaban?"

"There is no visitation at Azkaban, and the families almost always disown anyone sentenced there. Azkaban is a maximum security prison where only the worst of the worst are sent. Few families want to acknowledge anyone like that was ever part of the family. It's an issue that rarely comes up. Who did you have in mind?"

"It's my godfather: Sirius Black. He's been in Azkaban ever since the end of the last wizarding war. He also never received a fair trial. I would like to see him, and find a way to reopen an investigation into whether or not he betrayed my parents. I need to know".

"While there is no visitation proper, it is possible to arrange prisoner interviews".

"Would you look into an interview?"

"I will see what I can do".

"About Ron..."

"You were right about him and the others. Madam Pomphrey found multiple compulsions. They need not fear expulsion or any in school punishments".

"Is there any way to have the entire Weasley family tested as well?"

"Why would you ask?"

"It's just the odd way about them the last time I visited".

"There is no legal grounds for that. I can ask, but that's all I can do. There is one thing I'd like to hear you opinion. It's my niece, Susan. How safe is she, really?"

"She's in Hufflepuff, and the Badgers always go in groups since Hufflepuff is the loser's house, and they are frequent targets of bullying. The Badgers protect their own, so she should be OK"

"I see… You are free to go".


	19. Dumbledore Stumbles

**Dumbledore Stumbles**

Aurors all over the school, a professor missing his class, and the rumour mill was going full bore. Students, ghosts, and portraits: the tales just kept getting wilder with every retelling. Any new rumour, and Peeves made certain everyone heard it. Ron was taking all the credit, bragging about how he faced down the Dark Lord, how he, and he alone, figured out that Dumbledore's warning at the Opening Feast to stay away from the third floor corridor was a test of courage and initiative.

"Are you just going to let Weasley get away with this?", Draco asked, as they made their way to the Great Hall.

"I never wanted the notoriety", Harry explained. "Let Ron play the big man on campus; let Ron deal with pissed off Death Eaters and their offspring".

"Now _that,_ is Slytherin thinking", Draco complemented.

"Don't worry, Harry, Father would never pull me from Slytherin", Draco reassured. "After he gets rid of Dumbledumbass, they'll be back", Draco told him over breakfast the morning after Voldemort was sent fleeing.

"Maybe not you, but I'm expecting to hear from Vernon and Petunia any second now".

Dumbledore gave a little talk about the events of the night before. He said that exams for DADA were suspended, due to the sudden departure of Professor Quirrel. He did not mention that Quirrel had died, or under what circumstances. He made the usual appeal about spreading unfounded rumours and speculation, and asked for co-operation with the aurors and their investigation of an incident that had taken place behind the doors of the forbidden corridor.

Harry received an excuse slip before Transfiguration. He went to the gargoyle guarding the entrance to Dumbledore's office complex: "Lemon sorbet", he gave the password that granted him access to the spiral staircase. He'd been expecting this.

 _Hogwarts: Dumbledore's Office_

"One thing I don't understand, Professor, is why Quirrel couldn't stand my touch, why it burned like him like fire without affecting me?"

"Ahhhh, you see, Harry, that is the power of love. When your mother made the ultimate sacrifice to save you, it left a mark...", Harry instinctively reached for his forehead.

"Not that kind of mark, one that no one can see, but which lives on within you. Love, Harry, it was love that so repelled Voldemort. He wouldn't understand because he has never loved...". Dumbledore paused, and it was obvious he was about to change subjects, and not for the better.

"Harry, why did you do it?", the Headmaster asked.

"Do what?"

"Involve the DMLE. Why didn't you come to me or Professor Snape first?"

"Why don't you ask Neville? He came to me, otherwise, I would have known nothing about it".

"I'm asking _you_ ".

"Oh, I don't know", Harry replied sarcastically, "We had five Firsties putting themselves in extreme danger so it seemed like a good idea at the time. I'm so fucking sorry if that inconvenienced you".

"Don't take that tone with me Young Man", the grandfatherly facade slipped a bit.

"Are you trying to get me killed, or are you trying to get me to do your dirty work for you? Which is it?"

"I would never place a student in any danger"

"Bullshit! Don't insult my intelligence. It's not too hard to figure: you have the most formidable wizard in a _century –_ maybe two or three – _and_ you're asking me to believe that an inept guard dog, a chess set, flying keys, and a potions puzzle is supposed to stop the Dark Lord in his tracks? Ordeals _first year_ students could figure out? It's pretty damned obvious to me: Fluffy: Hagrid just happens to let us know how to get around him. The ordeal of the Devil's Snare: that one was for Neville. A chess game, and we all know that the one and only thing Ron excels at is Chess. Flying keys, probably for Katie Bell, and a logic puzzle, and we all know Hermione does logical thinking that is uncommon among wizard-kind, don't we?

"All your ordeals, tailor made for firsties, and _specific_ firsties at that. I repeat: were we supposed to die at Voldemort's hands, or were we expected to somehow kill him? You used us – all of us – and the school itself to lure in Voldemort. Isn't that how Quirrel slipped past the wards for so long? Isn't that why Madam Bones had so little luck with the poachers, and Diggory's almost murder?"

"You think you have everything figured out, eh Harry? There are things you don't understand…"

"Then why don't you enlighten me?"

"Where is the Stone?"

"Like I told Madam Bones, it's gone. Destroyed with the Mirror of Erised".

"You have it. It must be destroyed before Voldemort gets his hands on it. You're putting yourself in unnecessary danger, Harry. We – Mr Flammel and I – agree about the destruction of the Stone. If it is your intention to use it yourself, I can assure you, immortality isn't the benefit it would seem to a youngster such as yourself. Nicholas and his wife have had long, full lives..."

"That is not your say! That's the big problem with you, Dumbledore..."

"That's _Mister_ Dumbledore, or Professor, or Headmaster..."

"Respect is earned, not owed, and you have shown me precious little reason to earn mine. As for you, _Dumbledore_ , your biggest fault is believing you know what's best for others better than they know for themselves. If Mr Flammel believes he's lived long enough, if he believes it's so important, then he can destroy the Stone himself".

"I must insist: give me the Stone. It is too dangerous to allow it to exist so long as Lord Voldemort knows about it, and can use it to return himself to full life and power".

"I already told you..."

"I know you have it..."

"The only way you could know that is if you put a charm on that mirror that would allow only me to retrieve it. Is this what you're saying?"

"No, Harry, of course not. The mirror's charm was to allow only those of pure motive to retrieve the Stone, not those who wanted it for what it could give them. All others such as Professor Quirrel or Lord Voldemort would see is themselves making the Elixir of Life or turning lead into gold, but it wouldn't allow them to have it. I explained how the Mirror of Erised shows one's true desire".

"Then you don't know whether or not I got it, and I'm telling you I don't have it. I saw it, and so did Ron, and likely Hermione, but none of us were able to get it. Maybe our motives weren't so pure either? If you like, you can have Filch toss my dorm, if you haven't already. Now if we're done here, I'd like to see how Hermione is doing".

There was nothing more Dumbledore could say. Harry was way too close to figuring everything out. The only question was who was helping him? Lucius Malfoy? Madam Bones? Someone else he didn't suspect or know about? The plan had worked just fine until Potter decided to call in the DMLE instead of taking his concerns to, if not the Headmaster, then his own head of house. A mild compulsion had sent Neville to the dungeons instead to either Percy Weasley, Gryffindor's boys' prefect, or McGonagall. Harry had stopped Voldemort for a second time, and the whole incident could have been easily covered up, but for Potter's sending that message to the DMLE. Now, he had a real shitstorm on his hands. There was no avoiding informing the parents this time.

 _Hogwarts: Madam Pomphrey's Infirmary_

As Harry pushed open the double doors, Madam Pomphrey noticed immediately and came to see who was invading her domain.

"I would like to see Hermione", Harry requested.

"She's resting, so I can let you have a moment".

Harry noticed the aurors: "In private, preferably"

"Out! Out! Out!", Pomphrey insisted.

The aurors knew better than to cross the formidable healer, especially in her own domain, and so sheepishly stepped outside. They figured that no one would attempt anything, not when Poppy Pomphrey was on duty.

"Only a moment", she reminded again, as she led the way to the bed behind the privacy curtains.

"Miss Granger, are you up to seeing a visitor?", she asked, "it's Harry Potter".

"Yes, please".

"A moment, no longer", Pomphrey reminded yet again.

"How're you doin'?", Harry asked.

"Oh, Harry...", eyes filling with tears. He didn't have any idea as to what he was supposed to say. So he said nothing, offering a big hug instead. "I never been so scared in my life".

"We have to stop meeting like this", he said.

Despite herself, Hermione let out a chuckle.

"I don't know how I'm doing. Madam recommends a visit to St Mungo's to see a mind healer. She said something about PTSD… It looks like my days at Hogwarts are over, when Mom and Dad find out..."

"So are a lot of others… Madam Bones is trying to get Susan's parents to pull her out. I suspect Vernon and Petunia will be sending me elsewhere..."

"But all my friends – the _only_ friends I ever had – are _here_..."

"I don't know what to tell you… Dumbledore has fucked up for the last time. Maybe if Madam Bones can intervene with the Board, get him dismissed, our parents could change their minds"

"How likely..."

"Dumbledore seems awfully sure of himself, so I don't know. The old bastard seems to live a charmed life, so who knows?"

"Harry, I found something...", she said in a low whisper. She reached under her pillow, pulling out what looked like quartz crystals, a cluster of long, clear, six-sided crystals, only a deep reddish brown. It was in your pocket… Is this..."

"Yes, it is, and let's keep this our little secret. No telling Dumbledore or McGonagall". Harry slipped the Stone into a charmed, inner pocket.

"You don't have to worry… I'm over the hero worship, and I don't trust any of them anymore. You were right, Harry. You were right all along..."

"Time to go Mr Potter", Pomphrey announced.

"Can I get out of here?", Hermione asked. "I'm bored, I want to get back to class".

"We'll see, but for now, your calming drought".

Next stop: the Common Room to dash off a brief letter to Nicholas Flammel. All it said was that Harry had found his Stone and was returning it. He donned the Cloak of Invisibility to make his way to the owlry. After making sure he was unobserved, he took off the Cloak, and took the Stone from a pocket. He broke off the two largest crystals, and placed the rest in a box which he reduced in size to attach to Hedwig's leg.

"I need you to deliver this package to Nicholas Flammel in Devon, I know that's not much to go on, but I know you can do it", he said as he sent the owl on his way.

Then back to his dorm room under the Cloak. He passed Filch, who was looking for skiving students to punish. Neither Filch, nor that nosy cat of his – Mrs. Norris – suspected a thing.

Seeing that no one was there: "Tippy", he called for the house elf, who appeared at once.

"Master call Tippy?"

"I need you to find Lucius Lutra and bring him here".

"Tippy can not do that, Master. Tippy can relay the message to Dobby".

"That'll work. Let him know what's been going on around here. Have him meet me in the Come and Go Room if I'm still here, or 4 Privet Dr. if I'm not".

"Right away, Master", and Tippy disapparated.

Potions didn't go so well today. Snape was riding Harry as hard as any Gryffindor.

"What have we here?", Snape drawled as he picked up Harry's potions text. "Unapproved outside sources, Mr. Pot-ter?"

"With all due respect..."

"Not another word, Mr. Pot-ter. You will leave my class room now, and you will wait in my office. Is that clear?"

"Yes, Sir"

"Get back to work!", Snape snapped at the rest of the class. The whispering and titters silenced immediately.

"You have tried my patience for the last time", Snape didn't waste any time getting to his real point. "You are just like your father. He was also arrogant and thought himself above his station… You're even worse.

"How _dare_ you go behind my back and call in the aurors. It never occurred to you to bring the matter of disobedient students to my attention. If we needed the aurors, we would have been the ones to call for them: that was our decision to make not _yours_. Your irresponsible behaviour could have endangered the lives of students and faculty alike".

It was obvious Snape's rage was on the rise.

"Then we have this", Snape waved Harry's book in his face. "Cheating is the one thing I will never tolerate in my class..."

"I wasn't cheating..."

"Don't… Interrupt me again… This is not Ministry approved. Where did you get it?"

"Borgin and Burkes, Mr Burke highly recommended it. Besides, it _is_ a Hogwarts text, so not really an outside source, is it?".

"From almost a century ago, and filled with answers. The only approved texts are the ones on the list you received before the start of the term. And just what were you doing in Knockturn Alley?"

"Shopping for old books, obviously".

"Don't... get snippy with me, Pot-ter… Since you have not been learning my lessons, you will receive a 'U' for my class, you won't be attending any further classes, and you will be doing detention with me for the rest of the term, beginning this evening. Then I shall see to having you removed from Hogwarts".

"No, Sir, I won't. According to the bylaws, students have the right to appeal any in-school punishments to the Board. As the Faculty Advisor and Head of my House, I am officially informing you that I am appealing this detention. Until the Board hears the case, I am not obligated to do this detention".

"You use the bylaws when it suits your convenience… Just. Like. Your. Father..."

"I respectfully ask you to refrain from insulting my parents".

"GET OUT!", Snape was purple with rage, murder in his eyes.

The day was one of the worst days Dumbledore could remember in a very long time. The first to go was Susan Bones. She had taken the Floo with her aunt when Madam Bones and her aurors left to return to the Ministry.

Next, a livid Ted and Marilyn Granger confronted Dumbledore and McGonagall. They would hear no arguments as to why their daughter should continue at Hogwarts. They insisted on signing the withdrawal forms, gathering Hermione's things, and apparition back to Surry.

Then Vernon and Petunia. Vernon, especially, was not to be swayed, regardless of how Dumbledore tried playing up Harry as the hero of Hogwarts, the savior of his friends. Or appeal to Petunia, and reminders that Hogwarts was her late sister's alma mater, and that Harry's attendance would honour her memory. Vernon countered that there should have been no reason for Harry to be a hero, or save his friends if Hogwarts' incompetent excuse for a Headmaster had done his job right. He also had choice words for the Deputy Headmistress.

It went the same way for the Browns and Finnigans: Lavender and Seamus: both gone.

The only families with children directly involved who didn't pull their kids were the Malfoys, Longbottoms, Thomases, and, of course the Weasleys. There was no way any son of Lucius Malfoy wouldn't be a Slytherin. Madam Longbottom was chair of the Board of Governors, and so she wasn't concerned Dumbledore would involve Neville in any of his plots. Neville's involvement was minimal and had not placed him in any immediate danger. Dean Thomas was attending on a scholarship. As for the Weasleys, Molly, especially, believed Dumbledore could do no wrong.

 _4 Privet Drive_

"Back just in time for supper", Vernon announced after McGonagall had apparated them back home.

"Harry's back?", Dudley asked.

"You sure are looking good, Big D", Harry complimented. He had taken off quite a few pounds in his absence.

"Store your things, and change into something a bit more suitable", Vernon requested. He noticed the empty cage: "Where's Hedwig? You didn't forget him?"

"Oh no, he's on a mission, delivering my mail".

"How will he know?"

"I have that covered. The house elves will send him along when he sees I'm not there".

"Rabbit food, not again", Dudley complained.

"Now, now, Didums, it's for your own good", Petunia reminded.

"Could you please stop calling me 'Didums': I'm not a little kid anymore".

"He's right, you know", Vernon agreed.

"You'll always be my Didums..."

"Moooooo-theeeeer!"

"After our rabbit food, you'll have to tell us all about your adventures", Vernon requested of Harry.

This gave Harry the time to decide: hold nothing back as there was no point in concealing anything. He told the truth about what happened to Cedric, about the mountain troll, filled them in about Voldemort, and the change in heart about the Slytherin Death Eater offspring.

"It's out of the question!", Vernon thundered. "You will _not_ return to that school under _any_ circumstances! If it was up to me, you would go back to a normal higschool, and forget all about magic and wizards".

"Uncle Vernon..."

"Don't misunderstand: I'm not mad at you. I'm mad at myself for letting myself be taken by that old billy goat… You can't help being what you are; you can continue taking lessons from Mr. Lupin. Then we will decide where you go next fall, if anywhere".

"About my friends..."

"Owlposts are fine, and if there is any visiting, it will be done here, or at their homes. You will never set foot on Hogwarts property again. Is that understood?"

"Perfectly"

Harry had made the mistake of asking if he could return to Hogwarts if Dumbledore were replaced as Headmaster.

"One good thing", Harry said, "at least I'm back early, no waiting until the end of term".

"I wish it were under better circumstances", Petunia said. "Is it true? That professor really attempted to rape Hermione?"

"Voldemort, actually: Quirrel was possessed, and likely had no idea what he was doing. Cost him his life".

"How could anyone like that be permitted around children… or anyone else, for that matter?"

"How indeed"

 **0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF**

The _Daily Prophet_ had a field day with this story. The headline took up half the front page.

 **BOY WHO LIVED LEAVES HOGWARTS!**

 _Last night, the Department of Magical Law Enforcement received an urgent message that sent them to Hogwarts. Madam Bones has so far refused to issue a statement, citing the on-going investigation into the death of the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, Quirinius Quirell, who joined the faculty at the start of the current term._

 _Details are sketchy, due to the media blackout surrounding Hogwarts. Before the lock down placed on the owlry, students got out owlposts that allege that Hewhomustnotbenamed made an appearance in a section of the castle that had been off-limits to students and staff alike. One Ronald Weasley claimed that he witnessed the appearance of the Unnameable One as a spirit possessing the late Professor Quirell. He further stated that he, with the assistance of the Boy Who Lived, drove him off to rescue another student. This reporter can neither confirm nor deny young Mr. Weasley's claims, though the presence of a dark entity seems confirmed. Whether or not it was Hewhomustnotbenamed, remains an open question. Being that school records are public records, it has been confirmed that Harry Potter, and several other students have been removed from the student body by their families._

 _This latest incident is typical of the incompetent management of Hogwarts under Headmaster Albus Dumbledore. His lackadaisical disregard for the safety of his students, and the irresponsibility in bringing into the castle of a long sought for artifact – alleged to be the one and only example of a Philosopher's Stone in existence – is inexcusable. Though Albus Dumbledore has long managed the school with an exemplary record over his forty plus year log reign as Headmaster, it is well past high time to recognize the reality: Mr Dumbledore is no longer fit for his position. It would serve his reputation to voluntarily retire and allow new blood its long awaited turn. It is this reporter's contention that Mr. Dumbledore believes Hogwarts to be his personal fiefdom to be run by his every whim, that he is above the law. The favoritism he consistently shows for House Gryffindor is well known. As is the indulgence for rule-breaking by his favorite students. He needs to be reminded that we still have a Board of Governors, and that the management of Hogwarts is ultimately their responsibility. They should exercise that responsibility and remove Headmaster Dumbledore should he fail to tender his resignation. The safety of the students, not to mention the reputation of one of the premier wizarding schools hangs in the balance._

 _Has Headmaster Dumbledore worn out his welcome? This reporter leaves you to decide that._

– _Rita Skeeter_

"I'd like to see Hermione", Harry announced, "see how she's holding up".

"That's fine", Petunia agreed, "but how will you get there?"

"The knight bus, it's one of the ways magi get around London".

Calling the bus was easy, just hold up your wand. Harry used his special wand for this, the one that didn't report underage magic in muggle areas.

Within minutes, the bus arrived, though no muggles saw anything. The bus careened wildly through the streets of London, no traffic signals, no traffic jams slowed the bus, as it drove the streets as though they were deserted. The bus whizzed by muggle cars and trucks stuck in traffic, their drivers none the wiser.

"Harry?", she greeted. Her parents were at their office.

"Yeah, I was pulled out too. And let me tell you: were they ever pissed… so how're you holding up?"

"I never got to thank you for what you did..."

"That's alright, we were kind'a preoccupied".

"So far, so good, but they tell me PTSD sometimes doesn't show up right away. I have an appointment for St Mungo's in a few days, and enough dreamless sleep potion to last till then… What do we do now?"

"We get together with Remus, continue our lessons, then see what goes from here".

"Have you heard from Neville? Ron?"

"Hedwig is still on a mission, I sent the Stone back to Flammel, so no telling how long that'll take, as I wasn't real specific as to where he actually lives now, somewhere in Devon, I think.

"As for the Weasleys, I doubt their invite to visit over the summer still stands… oh well, I never liked them all that much anyway".

"I get along with them, especially the Twins, pretty well. Ron? He's trying so hard to live up to the expectations his brothers set. Percy's Head Boy, and Charlie was a star Seeker, and Bill's a Curse Breaker for Gringott's".

"Harry?", Hermione looked off into the distance. "Do you really think… he's coming back?"

"I don't know, but I do have someone working on it right now. I've sent word, but no telling when he'll get back to me".

"Who? Someone at Hogwarts?"

"I can't tell you just yet, but I hope to soon enough. More and more, it's looking like we're on our own here. I have reason to believe Whatshisname's appearance at Hogwarts was no coincidence. He's coming after me".

"How do you know that?"

"Our little secret, agreed?"

"Yes, of course".

He recounted the prophecy.

"How did you..."

"Let's just say – for now – I have friends in high places".

"Who?"

"You already met one".

"You mean Draco? There are others?"

"Yes, the Malfoys. There's also Luna and Xeno".

"And Mr. Lupin?"

"He's Dumbledore's man, through and through, so we need to be very careful what we say around him, because it'll be like saying it to Dumbledore himself".

"Harry? Now that he knows about us… I mean, are we – Mom and Dad – in danger?"

"One thing we can do is get the house warded. I'll have a word with my account manager, Barchoke, to see what he can do, reinforce the wards around my house as well".

 _Hogwarts: Come and Go Room_

"Many pardons Master Lucius..."

"How many times have I told you that just plain 'Lucius' will do nicely?"

"Tippy forgets, it is an old habit. Tippy is sorry, but Master Harry is no longer enrolled in school. Many of his friends have left too".

"I see… tell me what has been going on here? I need to know everything".

The house elf described in detail all about the possession of Professor Quirell, the reappearance of the Dark Lord, how Harry defeated him, what the elves overheard between Madam Bones and the aurors. One new tidbit was that Dumbledore put memories into a memory thief he called a 'Pensieve'.

"Will Mas… Lucius be going to see Harry Potter?"

"Not just yet. There are things I need to know, and I need to get into Dumbledore's office to see what he left in the Pensieve".

"Many pardons, but Tippy can not..."

Lucius grabbed Tippy's rough cloak, pulling him eye-to-eye: "Lives are at stake! Don't you understand that?! _Hellsamatter_ with you?! _I_ need to know, and _you're_ gonna help me get in there".

"Many pardons, but it's the house elf enchantments. Tippy has no choice. Tippy can not go against Master Dumbledore. Even if Tippy wanted to..."

"You must know something! How do you house elves get in and out of that office? I assume you do the cleaning?"

"There are service passages..."

"Show me"

 _4 Privet Drive_

It took three days, but Hedwig made it back, with a return letter:

 _To Whom It May Concern:_

 _While I can appreciate that you wouldn't want to reveal your name, I have a pretty good idea as to who you are. I thank you for returning my Stone, but you should have allowed Albus to have it. He was correct: I did desire that he destroy the Stone as soon as it became obvious the Dark Lord knew about it. I don't understand why you would be so distrustful of Albus Dumbledore, he is a great wizard, and a great Headmaster. In case you didn't know, Mr. Dumbledore has turned down the honour of being Minister of Magic on several occasions. Such is his dedication to Hogwarts, and all his students. He has your best interest at heart._

 _You needn't worry about us. We have enough Elixir to last us long enough to set all our affairs in order. The Missus and I have indeed had very long, and full lives. Now it's time for our well earned rest. We are tired of saying 'Goodbye' to all too many close friends down through the centuries. As you will find out for yourself, yes, I noticed the missing pieces._

 _Yours,_

 _Nicholas Flammel_

"What have you got there?", Petunia asked.

"Oh nothing, just another charter member of the Albus Dumbledore Fan Club", Harry replied.

"Glad you're back", Harry said to Hedwig. "Unfortunately, it looks like I'm going to be having a lot of work for you, if Dumbledore ever allows owlposts out of Hogwarts".

One afternoon, Remus Lupin stopped by:

"I heard your parents pulled you out of Hogwarts?"

"You heard correctly", Vernon was joining them, "sending him there was a mistake in the first place".

"I don't see how you can say that?"

"Mad, possessed professors threatening to kill two students, the attempted rape of a little girl, the near fatal injuring of another, plenty reason why no responsible parent would ever send a child into that environment".

"Headmaster Dumbledore..."

"Is an incompetent old fool who should have been sent packing a long time ago. His irresponsibility is inexcusable. Nothing like that would ever be allowed to happen in any normie school".

"Only it has, and worse. Don't you pay attention to the BBC? Abuse of muggle children happens all too frequently. No harm came to any of the children at Hogwarts..."

"No harm, no harm, you say? Who knows how Hermione was harmed, or are you going to claim attempted rape doesn't harm magical children?"

"No, of course not, but..."

"It wouldn't have happened if Dumbledore hadn't brought that damned Stone into the castle in the first place!"

"To keep it out of Hewhomustnotbenamed's hands, which he did. The Professor headed off a great disaster. That Harry had a role to play in that, should make you proud".

"I am proud, but it should not be necessary for children to have anything to do with that. It's still the responsibility of your Ministry, and the Headmaster. Regardless of what good turns Dumbledore did for you in the past, that's it: in the past. It's the here and now that concerns me".

"Let's just agree to disagree", Harry said, "I'd still like to take lessons, those of us who can, like Hermione. I'd like to include the rest of the group, but I don't see how we can work that. We still have the rest of the school work to do".

"I'll not hear any more discussions about Dumbledore", Vernon said, "Harry will not be going back to that school, and that's final".

Lupin recognized a lost cause when he saw one.

"We can still meet here for private lessons?", Remus asked.

"I never said I was denying the boy a proper education. We will be grateful for whatever you can do to further that education".

 _Hogwarts: Slytherin Dorms_

Lucius Lutra slipped into the boys' dorms via the service tunnels just after lights out.

"Lucius. I was expecting you", Draco said after putting up the privacy charm. "I guess Harry told you all about it".

"All he knew. I'm on another investigation, and will be needing your help to get into Dumbledore's office. If you didn't know, he has a Pensieve up there, and it contains memories I need to see".

"And you need a distraction?"

"Exactly"

"I know just who can do that. Still no word from Harry? Media blackout, no owlposts, the fires have been locked down, except for the one in Dumbledumbass's office"

"I haven't seen him yet, too much to do here. How have you been? I'm sure your father is concerned?"

"I'm still the son of the 'traitor' (finger quotes) but with Harry gone, that makes all the difference. Everyone's pretty much forgotten I went with him. Lots of kids like Nott are all bragging about what either they or the Dark Lord will do to Harry if he ever shows his face around Hogwarts.

"As for Luna, her old man had nothing to do with the Dark Lord before, so they're leaving her alone. Not to mention end year exams. A lot of second years'll be needing all the help they can get…". It was obvious he had something else in mind. "Is it true, the Dark Lord… ummmmmm… sexed Hermione, and she's gonna have his baby?"

"No, Draco, that's not true. Where did you hear that?"

"Peeves was saying it the other day in the Great Hall".

"You should know better than to believe a word Peeves says"

"I thought so… I had to ask. Glad to hear it was just another rumour. I… we… don't know what to believe these days".

"So I've been able to gather. No word from the DMLE?"

"Only that it's an active investigation".

 **0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF**

After breakfast the next day, Draco caught up with the Gryffindors.

"Hey guys. Fred, George".

"Malfoy! What do you want?"

"Now Ronnikins, if the rest of the Snakes hate Draco here so much, he must be doing something right. He's George..."

"He's Fred… or am I Fred and he's George?".

"I think we got it right the first time, so what brings you here?"

"I need _your_ kind of help".

"We'll catch up, you don't want to be late for class", Ron had been dismissed. "I'm sure Snape can suggest study partners, Luna not working out?"

"It has nothing to do with that, I mean pranking help".

"We _are_ the go-to experts, but we don't do outside jobs, especially not for Snakes".

"It will help Harry, Hermione, Neville..."

"This had best be on the level, Malfoy".

"Believe me, you two are the last ones I'd ever consider if there were any alternative".

"We'll discuss it later, after noon break".

Draco caught up with the pranksters in an unused classroom.

"What's this all about, Malfoy?"

"The name's Draco..."

"The son of the Death Eater Extraordinaire..."

"My father isn't like that..."

"Your whole family is rotten to the core. The things they did during the last wizarding war, and isn't Bellatrix Lestrange your aunt?"

Draco whipped out his wand, the twins cringed, but the expected attack didn't come:

"I swear on my magic that I will be nothing less than truthful with Fred and George, so mote it be".

Draco's wand sent up a shower of sparks, his vow accepted.

"He really _is_ serious"

"Someone is going to break into Dumbledumbass's office, and I need a distraction..."

"You?"

"No, not me".

"Then who?"

"I can't say anything beyond that he's sort of a mentor to Harry. If you didn't know, Dumbledumbass has a Pensieve in his office. He puts his memories and innermost thoughts in it, and we need to know what he knows about Whatshisname".

"And you're working for this mentor too?"

"Harry and I are Snakes, and you know we Snakes stick together".

"Yeah, and in all the wrong ways".

"You heard wrong".

"What's your old man gonna say if he finds out about this?"

"He already knows. He's met this mentor himself".

"No doubt a dark wizard turning Harry".

"Absolutely not! Didn't Harry just kick his ass once again, just a few days ago? Would he do that if he was even thinking of siding with the Dark Lord?"

"Gred?"

"Yeah, Forge?"

"If he's lying, he'd be a squib by now".

"OK, Draco, give us a few days to come up with something, but you gotta promise".

"And that would be?"

"Share all the juicy details with us".

"No promises just yet. I'll have to ask first".

"We'll be in touch".

 _London: Ministry of Magic_

Lucius apprated from Hogwarts to Madam Bones' office. Fortunately, all the paperwork was in plain sight, still on her desk. There was a copy of a recommendation to the Wizengamot not to prosecute Harry Potter, as the evidence of self defense and protection of innocent life was so overwhelming as to leave no doubt as to Potter's innocence. A complaint against Albus Dumbledore filed with the Board of Governors. Madam Bones was going to buck the system, go up against the Chief Warlock and Supreme Mugwump, and all his considerable political connections.

The most disturbing thing was the depositions of the aurors. They all agreed: Voldemort's face, which the veterans recognized from the last wizarding war, was attached to Quirrel's head. They described the wraith-like form they saw Harry drive from the unfortunate professor, his subsequent death from depletion of life force, and repeated self administrations of unicorn blood. How was such a thing even possible?

He found something else: Bones was working on a petition to reopen a case: the case against Sirius Black. He apparated back to the Come and Go Room, no one none the wiser.

 **0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF**

The Twins turned the once forbidden third floor corridor into a tropical rain forest – or at least what they imagined one to be like – complete with screeching birds, lots of mist, and dense undergrowth amidst tall trees. This wonder attracted loads of attention, with Peeves announcing what had been done. Students milled about, oblivious to Filch's orders to move along. This attracted all the attention Lucius needed.

"Go!", was all Fred said into one of Lucius' bugs.

Lucius broke into the office, under Notice-Me-Not and Disillusion charms. Fawkes began to squawk.

"Shutup, Fawkes", Lucius said in Otterish.

The unfamiliar voice and language, that he could not locate the source of this voice, had the phoenix sufficiently confused. The Pensieve gave off a bluish light from the top shelf of an open cupboard. Dumbledore hadn't bothered to hide it. Lucius levitated it to the floor. The stone basin contained what looked like either liquid or heavy vapour. It could have been both, or neither. He could see something, indistinct, just below the surface. Sticking his head in gave a clearer view. Then it felt like he was sucked in.

Lucius stood in the yard of a country cottage. Ivy crept up one side of the cottage. One half of the second story looked as if a bomb had just gone off. He watched as Dumbledore and Hagrid made their way through the open front gate. A wrought iron fence surrounded the property.

"I'm afraid we're too late", Dumbledore said.

"Aye", the big man could only say.

They heard a baby cry.

"Could it be...", Dumbledore started.

"I'll go", Hagrid sprinted through the open front door.

There were the sounds of wreckage being tossed aside, as the big man made his way to the second story.

"Issa miracle!", Hagrid called out.

More sounds of Hagrid's making his way back. He carried a small bundle wrapped in a blanket.

"I dunnow how, but the wee bairn is alive and unharmed, but for that mark on his haid".

"James and Lily?", Dumbledore asked.

"Im'a sorry", Hagrid shook his head.

"Voldemort?"

"Ah didn'a see no sign uvim. What could'a caused dis?"

"Are you _sure_ , Hagrid?"

"As shur as Ah shirley canna be. T'aint no sign uv ter Dar' Lorr. If'n he whirr here, he mussa scaped sumways, err he vapourized in ter splosion. Innyways, I guess he's a gonner?"

"I wouldn't be too sure of that… if the explosion was powerful enough to vapourize Voldemort, it would have vaporized Harry as well. No, Hagrid, that is not what happened. This wasn't a conventional explosion caused by muggle explosives, nor was it a Bombarda. This was dark magic backfiring, I am certain of that, as I can feel the residue of something very dark. I wonder if we've really heard the last of Voldemort… Nothing more for us to do here: we need to get young Harry to his aunt and uncle. They're the only family he has left".

Dumbledore was obviously reviewing his memories of the night Potter's parents were murdered, and Harry became the Boy Who Lived. Dumbledore was also trying to figure out what Voldemort had become on that night. He didn't know any more than Lucius, or anyone else.

The other thought Lucius caught before he dare spend any more time with the Pensieve was Dumbledore's concern over the state of Voldemort: not a ghost as ghosts had no power to influence the material world. Nor in a state of material being either, yet still able to affect material objects and to cast. That he could only have a physical presence while possessing another showed that Voldemort was in some sort of half way state between the living and the dead.

Lucius ducked into the service way just as the office door was opening. He didn't bother to put the Pensieve away. It would do no good as Dumbledore would know someone was rummaging through his thoughts and memories.

The Twins got their gossip, and a detention as Peeves was a tattle-tale. Draco and the Twins found, if not the beginnings of a friendship, a useful association.

 _4 Privet Drive_

" What kept you?", Harry asked his furry friend.

"I needed to stay over at Hogwarts. There were things I needed to find out".

"And did you?"

"Yes, though it was disappointing. Dumbledore is as clueless as to the nature of Voldemort as we are. Whatever he did to fulfill his brag about being immortal, we simply do not know. We do know he did something. Whatever that was that you saw that night, it wasn't a ghost, nor was it spirit. It wasn't exactly physical either, though it does retain the power of possession, and thereby attain a physical form in another's body. This hints at some form of obscure magic, and black magic at that". Lucius spared his knowing he viewed the scene of James' and Lily's last evening alive.

"Then Dumbledore was right: Voldemort isn't gone".

"Not completely, no. He's in some sort of halfway state, neither fully alive nor fully deceased. He isn't powerless either, though must be in a weakened state. It would appear he can't do anything unless he takes over a body".

"Do you know how?"

"This would require knowledge of the darkest of the Dark Arts..."

"Then Borgin and Burkes? Some other shop in Knockturn Alley?"

"You can be sure that dark mages like that don't leave their grimoires just lying around, and they certainly don't publish them for general circulation. Asking those kinds of questions will arouse all the wrong sorts of attention. I would highly advise against that, if you value your continued presence on Earth in your present form".

"What about Hogwarts? The restricted section of the library? How about former teachers of DADA?"

"Maybe, but I doubt it. Dumbledore would know by now if there were that kind of information in that library. He's had over forty years as Headmaster. I doubt there are any secrets in that castle he doesn't know about already. As for DADA professors, he hired all of them, and would know if any knew. He would have asked already".

"How do I fit in?", Harry asked.

"I don't know for certain, but it's my guess that Dumbledore's intent was to weaponize you against Voldemort. That's what the prophecy definitely hints at, and Dumbledore believes it".

"Then he _did_ want me there".

"Yes, he sure did, that much is pretty obvious. Your first year, the presence of the Stone which Voldemort would very much want, and the all too simplistic ordeals, the inability of the greatest wizard of the century to detect a case of possession, pretty much seals the deal.

"I have other news I think you will like better. Amelia Bones is working on getting Sirius' case reopened, and she's going to do it: take a complaint to the Board of Governors".

"Before you go, I have something", Harry brought out the piece of the Philosopher's Stone he pinched. "I know you guys don't live all that long… and you can add more years"

"Thirty years, a pretty long life, but it's appreciated. Thanks for thinking about me… Ummmmm, Harry, you didn't keep any for yourself?"

"Actually I did: think of it as life insurance".

"I must warn you: whatever you do, don't try turning lead into gold".

"Why not? It's not like I don't have a ready supply of gold at Gringotts"

"What's the difference between lead and gold?"

"You mean besides the usual? Gold is rare and expensive and lead common and dirt cheap?"

"Yes, Harry"

"I… don't know?"

"Three protons: that's the difference. Remove three protons from lead, and you have gold. However, it's a form of gold with too many neutrons. It will try to rid itself of excess neutrons by turning one of them into a proton. That means some nasty radioactivity. Considering that the longest half-life of that isotope is less than thirty minutes, the radioactivity like the inside of a reactor; the heat of its own decay would be more than sufficient to vapourize it, and probably explosively.

"Have you wondered why Flammel was the only one to produce a sample of a Philosopher's Stone? Who's to say it hasn't been done lots of times before, and he was the only one who lived to tell about it".

 **0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF**

Harry stepped into a call box in a run down warehouse district. If any muggles used this box, it would work normally. When Harry entered the five digit PIN, a voice answered:

"Ministry of Magic, state the reason for your visit"

"Board of Governors meeting, visitor's gallery".

A token dropped into the change tray. It said simply: "Visitor"

The floor of the call box dropped below street level, and down. It let him off at the atrium of the Ministry office complex. He headed for the security kiosk.

"Name and wand", the attendant said in a bored manner.

"Harry Potter", he turned over the token and wand.

"You'll get this back when you leave. Here's your visitor's badge, display it at all times while in the Ministry".

"Pardon me, but I've never been here before, so can you help me find where the Board of Governors is meeting?"

"Down the hall, past the fountain, and follow the map", as he handed Harry a map of the floor plan.

The Fountain of Magical Brethren had a plaque stating it was courtesy of Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic. The centerpiece of the fountain was a scene featuring a centaur, house elf, and goblin looking up worshipfully to a standing couple, male and female magi. Harry knew from Hagrid that if an actual centaur saw that, he would kick it to dust. Centaurs resented that the Ministry had the effrontery to classify them as magical beings. House elves worshiped their masters because an enchantment made them. As for goblins, they had actually fought a war against the wand carriers, and fought to a standoff. Had either side won, genocide would have followed. The peace agreement stipulated that goblins would run Gringotts in perpetuity.

Harry continued to the lifts. These looked like they were right out of 1920. However, unlike muggle lifts, these could move on three axis, not just one. Magi and pink, paper airplanes entered and left. Harry got on, and selected the first floor.

"Shouldn't you be in school?", the guard challenged.

"Class assignment", Harry explained.

Harry took his place in the visitor's gallery. Normally, few would ever consider attending, as these meetings are largely dull as dust. Even today, it was just Harry and Amelia Bones. Albus was there in his midnight blue dress robes. Next to him, his solicitor, whom Harry didn't know.

Augusta Longbottom called the meeting to order. The first order of business, a reading of the minutes of the previous meeting.

"The Board will now take up the complaint filed by the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement… Madam Bones, it is not necessary that you participate. We have your complaint and deposition. We won't be calling you to testify today".

"I'm here on official DMLE business, Madam Chairman"

"Do you expect to find any criminal activity here?"

"That depends on what I hear today".

"Madam Chairman, if I may".

"Yes Mr. Abbott", so this was the name of Dumbledore's solicitor.

"I move that Mr Malfoy recuse himself".

"On what grounds?", Lucius Malfoy challenged.

"On the grounds that your son, Draco, is enrolled at Hogwarts".

"Mr Abbott", Augusta objected, "I have a grandson enrolled as well, as do many members of this Board".

"Mr Malfoy's antipathy towards my client is well known".

"Are you accusing me of a failure to be objective? If we are going to go down that path, then all those favorable to your client should likewise recuse themselves. Of course, we wouldn't have a Board left, would we?"

"Motion denied", Madam ruled.

"I also object to the presence of the Potter boy. Since when do mere children pass judgment on their teachers?"

"I agree...", Augusta began to say.

"If I might have a moment", Harry called out. "The Board need not hear from Harry Potter, Hogwarts Firstie, but you will hear from the Lord of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Gaunt", as he displayed his ring.

"There hasn't been a lord of Gaunt in over fifty years", someone called out.

"There is now", Harry explained. "If you like, we can contact the manager of the Potter estate at Gringotts: his name is Barchoke. He was the one who granted me my lordship".

"That won't be necessary, Lord Gaunt"

He knew they wouldn't: it would be a great insult to the goblins, who don't like to be insulted by wand carriers.

McGonagall, Flitwick, Sprout, and Snape backed up all of Dumbledore's counter arguments.

There was no evidence Quirrel had anything to do with Cedric's injury.

There had been no reason to suspect Quirrel was possessed, and Voldemort, being one of two of the greatest wizards in a century, could have easily concealed that he possessed the unfortunate Quirrel.

If the children, Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, Lavender Brown, Seamus Finnigan, and Dean Thomas were in any danger, it was due to their own disobedience. Disobedience brought on by the compulsions Quirrel had placed on them.

It was not looking too good for Amelia Bones and her complaint.

"We will hear from Lord Gaunt", Longbottom announced, "provided that you have something new to add".

"Yes, I do", Harry said.

"Very well, be sworn in and take the stand".

"The famous Boy Who Lived...", Abbott began, thinking to undercut him.

"No, you're wrong", Harry said

"Eh?"

"I am Harry James Potter, son of James and Lily Potter who thrice defied the Dark Lord. I was born as the seventh month dies..."

"What...", Abbott began.

"Madam Chairman...", Dumbledore stood.

"A word with my client..."

"That won't be necessary", Dumbledore continued, "I beg the pardon of the Board members for wasting your time. I am withdrawing my challenge, and am tendering my resignation as Headmaster, effective immediately".

"Is that your final decision, Albus?", Longbottom asked.

"It is", Dumbledore confirmed.

"Well, that's that", Augusta said. "If there is no further business, I adjourn this meeting until next fall when we meet to appoint a new Headmaster".

"Meeting adjourned", Madam banged her gavel.


	20. Amelia Bones

**Amelia Bones**

Outside the conference room where the Board of Governors met, Albus Dumbledore was surrounded by his Heads of House, supporters on the Board, all wanting answers for what they just witnessed. Harry exited later with Madam Bones, standing off to one side, watching the spectacle. Dumbledore knew he would have to have a talk with the boy, but now wasn't that time: too many ears to hear.

"Mr. Potter, may I have a word with you?", Bones requested.

"I'm not under arrest or anything like that?"

"No, of course not, this is strictly voluntary on your part", she said it in a way that left little doubt but that this wouldn't be completely "voluntary".

"Here?", Harry asked.

"My office, come with me", as she led the way.

"Have a seat, Mr. Potter".

Harry say before the department head's desk. Amelia Bones sat, saying nothing, sizing up the boy.

"What did I just see down there?", she asked. "What was all that gibberish you were saying? I know Albus Dumbledore well enough to know that he would never just resign from Hogwarts, just like that", she said with a snap of her fingers. "What do you have on him, Mr. Potter?"

Harry debated himself on what to reveal, and how much.

"That 'gibberish' (finger quotes) I said on the stand is part of a prophecy".

There would be no denying this, no alternative explanation the least bit plausible. He recited the whole thing from memory.

"This prophecy was originally given by who I now know to be Sybil Trelawney, the Divination Professor, shortly before I was born. This prophecy is the reason my parents were murdered. It was Dumbledore who registered it with the Ministry".

"He told you this prophecy?"

"No, he didn't".

"Why would he react to this by resigning?"

"What did that prophecy say? Either must die at the hands of the other for neither can live while the other survives – I believe, and now we have positive confirmation, that Dumbledore intends to use me as a weapon against Voldemort, against my will. He's been trying to insinuate himself into my life since Day One, perhaps even going all he way back to the night my parents died. Didn't he have my parents' wills sealed? Didn't he basically usurp the title of magical guardian – a move the goblins refuse to recognize as legitimate? Isn't it a little bit too much of a coincidence that I start at Hogwarts, and Voldemort just happens to show up in the person of a possessed professor?"

"What makes you believe that Voldemort represents any sort of long term threat to magical Britain?"

"Prophecy spheres glow green while active, and go dark when fulfilled, do they not?"

"That's how they work", Bones agreed.

"My prophecy is still green. If Voldemort was as dead as everyone thinks, the prophecy would either be fulfilled, or unfulfillable".

"You've seen it?"

"I was told about it, still green, still unfulfilled, so that means Voldemort is still out there, somewhere, if you believe there's anything to it.

"As for myself… I don't know. I didn't take Divination, but I've heard about it around the school. Professor Trelawney is regarded as a kook; she dresses up like a Gypsy fortune teller from a carnival. That doesn't really matter does it? If Voldemort believes it, and Dumbledore, they will act on it. Dumbledore kept from me the real reason why my parents were murdered. If Voldemort thought I represented a threat, he would seek me out, to finish what he started. I can think of reasons why Dumbledore wouldn't tell me, none of them good".

"Such as?"

"How about using me as bait for starters".

"How did you happen to find out about this prophecy?"

"I'd rather not say".

"I must insist".

"I thought this was an informal conversation, if it isn't, then I'd best look into a solicitor's services before I say anything else".

"Based on what you're telling me, it's looking like we may have a criminal case against Mr. Dumbledore. Since you are the one handing me this case, that makes you a material witness. Do you understand what that means, Mr. Potter?"

"Not really".

"It means you can be compelled to tell us everything you know, or you go to Azkaban. As a material witness, you have immunity from prosecution for your own criminal acts, therefore you can't incriminate yourself. You may be a talented magician, and I've seen for myself how unusually adept you are at casting, your grades are excellent, so your talent is considerably above average. Be that as it may, you are still an eleven year old boy. There is no way you worked all this out by yourself. You had outside help, and I want to know who gave you that assistance".

"I can't tell you that, even if I wanted to, I don't know".

"Very well, Mr. Potter: let's play a little game, shall we? I say a name and you say 'Yes' or 'No'"

"Barty Crouch Sr"

"No".

"Arthur Weasley"

"No"

"Augusta Longbottom"

"No".

"Alistair Moody"

"No".

"Remus Lupin".

"No".

"Lucius Malfoy...

"Why the hesitation? You were seen in the company of Mr. Malfoy a year before you were due to start Hogwarts. Old Tom at the Leaky Cauldron never forgets a face, and in case you've forgotten, your face is quite memorable, especially when you were still wearing your glasses. What were you doing in a place you should have not known about in the company of someone you should have never known? Need I go on, Mr. Potter?"

It was obvious that the Head of the DMLE had been doing considerable investigating, probably going back to the investigation into unicorn poaching. She clearly didn't have enough time to learn this so soon. How much more did she know? There were so many ways he could trip himself up by saying the wrong thing.

"Yes, Lucius Malfoy gave me preschool assistance to give me a head start, being my step parents aren't magical. He escorted me and Mother through Diagon Alley to buy first year texts. He said I shouldn't trust Dumbledore, that he was a user. I believe him ever since I caught Dumbledore as he tried invading my mind on the very first day of class".

"He did that, did he? If he did, it's a serious violation, not only of Hogwarts policy, but illegal as well, using Legilimancy on a minor without permission, How would you know, and what could you do about it?"

"That was one Mr. Malfoy's lessons: Occlumancy. He said I'd need it and that I didn't want Dumbledore inside my mind".

"Why would one of the most notorious Death Eaters do that? If it wasn't for his gold and corrupt politicians, he'd be doing life in Azkaban".

"Maybe he's changed, the Yuletide Ball..."

"I don't usually read Skeeter's socialite column", Bones produced that issue of the _Daily Prophet_ :

"Boy Who Lived seen with Minister Fudge… Unusual guests invited, Hermione Granger and family… Augusta Longbottom's first appearance… yada, yada, yada…

"Edmond Parkinson – another Death Eater that bought his way off the hook – seen leaving early after a loud argument… Do you know what that was all about?"

"I'm afraid I don't, but it's not hard to figure: Pansy was forbidden to have anything to do with me, and I really liked her. There were accusations that Mr. Malfoy betrayed the Dark Lord, and lots of those I thought friends around Slytherin turned ice cold after the Christmas break".

"That still doesn't give me any explanation, care to enlighten me?"

"I… can't. When I turned ten, I received an anonymous owlpost that sent me to the Leaky Cauldron to meet Mr. Malfoy… That's all I know".

"No idea who sent it?"

"It was signed only from 'An Anonymous Admirer'".

"You had any contact since?"

"None, after that, the only ones I've dealt with are Lucius and Draco".

"That will be all for now".

"About Sirius..."

"You give me something; I give you something. That's how it works, Mr. Potter".

The mystery was deepening. Amelia Bones paid a visit to the Hall of Prophecies, one department overseen by the Unspeakables – wizarding government intelligence.

"We don't get many visitors down here", the Unspeakable on duty commented. "What prophecy were you looking for?"

"It was registered by Albus Dumbledore, I believe. Sybil Trelawney made this particular prophecy"

He took out an index: "Trelawney… Trelawney… Trelawney… Ah, here it is: June 22, 1980… Right this way".

He led down the aisles to the given section. Then the rack and shelf…

"Ummmmm… That's odd..."

"What's odd?"

"It's missing. The card's still here, but the sphere is gone".

"Who took it?"

"According to the index, no one. Noone's been inquiring about. People about whom prophecies are made can retrieve theirs".

"Who was this prophecy for?"

"Thomas Riddle, believed deceased, and an unknown later identified as Harry James Potter. But there's no record of Mr. Potter's reclaiming this prophecy, nor has Riddle".

"Could it have been stolen?"

"That's not possible, since anyone trying to take a prophecy not theirs is stricken with instant madness. As you are probably aware, this is a deterrent to having the privacy of others invaded. No one can enter the Hall of Prophecies unless admitted, or unless they're Unspeakables themselves".

"Then the culprit is an Unspeakable".

"Again, not possible, unless the prophecy belongs to them. We're not immune to the madness curse".

"Nevertheless, we have a missing prophecy, so someone had to have taken it without anyone's being aware".

"Madam Bones, that's not possible, not by apparition or portkey. Thank you for calling this breech of security to our attention; leave it to us to figure out how this happened".

"Do you have a record of what the prophecy was?"

"We don't keep such records for privacy considerations".

Amelia Bones discovered more questions than answers. If there was on thing she disliked, it was a mystery. How to go about unraveling it?

 _Hogwarts_

"Albus?", Minerva McGonagall was saying.

"This is your office, Minerva. All I ask is time to pack up my things".

Over his career, one of the longest as Headmaster, he had a lot of packing to do.

"Take all the time you need. I don't think I'll ever get used to this. For as long as I can remember, this has been _your_ office. It just doesn't… feel right".

"You will get used to it. After all, it's been the office of many a Headmaster down through the ages who preceded me. Nothing lasts forever, you know".

"What I don't understand, Albus, is _why_?"

"The well being of Hogwarts has always been my first, last, and only consideration. That includes the well being of any one individual, I include myself. I can't give our students my undivided attention if the Ministry is always going to be looking over our shoulders, questioning our every decision. The one thing we do not want is to have a Ministry auditor stationed here in the school".

McGonagall understood what he meant: you had the incompetent Professor Sybil Trelawney who had depended on Hogwarts for an eleven year career. The occasional – and rare – flash of insight wouldn't be enough to carry her anywhere else. Then you had the disgraced, expelled, de-wanded Professor Hagrid. His greatest weakness as a Professor was that he taught his students what was fun, but not necessarily what they needed to know. That made him quite popular with the students, but left their education on the subject inadequate. Without the positions as Care of Magical Creatures Professorship, and Game Keeper, what else would a disgraced, half-giant possibly do? Their chances of surviving an academic audit were between slim and none, and closer to none. Then you had the care taker, Argus Filch, a near squib. His only trace of magic was his unusual connection to his alter ego, Mrs. Norris, his nosy cat who caught many a student's misbehaviours. His disagreeable personality would not be tolerated by anyone other than Dumbledore.

"What am I to do?", McGonagall asked.

"I have taught you well, so you will set up here, in your office, as Headmistress. I have all the faith in the world that you can do it, and the Board will make the appointment permanent".

"And you, Albus?"

"Ah well, I shall retire to a country retreat: the old homestead in Godric's Hollow. Have no fear: I shall keep in touch. If you need anything, my help is only an owlpost away".

"I still don't understand, what did the Potter boy say that influenced your decision?"

"We must not blame Mr. Potter, Minerva, he did what he thought he had to do. That he happened to hand Cornelius what he needed to get what he wanted was just an unfortunate happenstance. I've tried to explain this to him on numerous occasions, I have not been plotting his downfall. I never desired to be Minister of Magic. I told him he always had my support, not because I thought he would be a great Minister, but because he was a good man. I fear the power of the position, and the self promotion that makes a political career have gone to his head, and has made him a bit of a paranoiac".

Albus Dumbledore, ever the master of distract and deflect.

The next morning everyone noticed that the Headmaster wasn't where he should have been. McGonagall took to the owl shaped podium.

"If I can have your attention", she called out.

"I have an announcement: yesterday, at the Board of Governors meeting, Professor Dumbledore resigned as Headmaster..."

Pandemonium broke out around the tables, shocked students and staff alike. McGonagall waited until it died down.

"I know this is quite sudden, and we are all surprised and shocked. While I can not go into details, I can say with confidence that our former Headmaster has the best interests of our school in mind. The Board has appointed me as your interim Headmistress, and Professor Dumbledore has full confidence in me. I promise you this: I will run this school as Albus Dumbledore would have liked, with concern of all our Hogwarts family first and foremost".

Slytherins celebrated in their Common Room; the other three Houses mourned in theirs.

 _London: Ministry of Magic_

"What brings the Head of Magical Law Enforcement to my humble office?", Arthur Weasley asked.

Arthur may have been a Director, but his division, the Office of Misuse of Muggle Artifacts, was not the most prestigious position within the Ministry, nor was it anywhere near the highest paid, having the most meager budget of any branch of the Ministry. Weasley barely made enough to support his family. He didn't care about prestige or money: the office allowed himself to indulge his hobby: studying muggle artifacts. He was always tinkering with muggle tech. There was a store shed at the Burrow, filled with muggle junk. He was always tinkering, taking things apart, putting them back together.

His latest project was an old Ford Anglia: not only restoration in the muggle sense, but it was his ambition to also enchant the car so that it could be flown. This meant an extensive reworking of the instrument panel to add controls for pitch and roll, an artificial horizon, slip and turn indicator, directional gyro, altimeter, airspeed, a VOR receiver, a nondirectional beacon, transponder, and VHF radio so he could navigate the muggle airways. There was also an ILS that would allow the car to land at any muggle airport in any weather conditions. The enchantment would see the dashboard looking like that of any other Anglia. When the special silver button was pressed, the flight controls would appear. It was highly ironic: this clearly classed as an abuse of muggle technology. Arthur doubted the Anglia would ever take to the sky: the doing was accomplishment enough.

Another enhancement: expanding the interior so the whole family could ride in comfort. This would be permitted, and was a feature of the Ministry's own meager fleet of autos. Arthur's knowledge of muggle tech was far beyond that of any other wizard, making him too valuable to promote to another office.

Still, being with the Ministry, he wasn't without influence: the newly passed Muggle Protection Act.

"It's about these raids your office is conducting. I wish to lend my assistance to your efforts. I will lend you a team of my best aurors".

"I appreciate your help, but why would you do that?"

"I want a raid made on Malfoy Manor".

"You're not serious, you know Malfoy's influence with the Minister".

"Precisely. Why should Malfoy escape a fully legal search under the very act you campaigned so heavily for? A raid fully supported due to the well known Malfoy interest in the Dark Arts. Are we to send a message that those with enough gold, who cultivate the kinds of relationships that put them into the Inner Circle, are above the law?"

This was a dicey proposition, and Arthur knew it had to come up some day. His office was already taking a lot of flak from those of lesser political pull whose abusive muggle artifacts had already been confiscated, there had already been convictions for criminal violations of the new Act, and increasing pressure for Minister Fudge to reconsider and repeal the MPA. Lucius was not going to like this a bit, Arthur knew that already, but Lucius had gotten away with so much already, he relished the idea of finally getting one over on the arrogant git.

 _Malfoy Manor_

"Just what is the meaning of this?", Lucius Malfoy asked as he and Narcissa answered the persistent pounding on the front door.

"Pursuant to the Muggle Protection Act we are here to execute this search warrant".

"Let me see that", Lucius demanded, as he pulled the paper roughly from the auror's hand.

"You will find everything is in order".

He scanned the warrant.

"We can do this the hard way or the easy way".

"Fine", Lucius said sourly as he stood aside.

The dozen aurors fanned out through the manor, sniffing for dark magic. As they went through display cases, and the vault in the basement Lucius was required to unlock for inspection: "You will find that everything is properly registered".

So far, nothing the least bit illegal had been turned up.

The last thing they did, was turn up the carpet in the main parlour, to reveal the hidden trap. For the first time, Malfoy looked anxious.

"What have we here?"

This was the stash of items designed to specifically attack muggles. One was a fancy gold pocket watch that caused any muggle who carried it to age prematurely. Another was what looked like normal kitchen cutlery. However, the blades were impregnated with an untraceable poison that delivered a lethal dose with a cut. To insure this was the case, there was also a Butterfingers Curse attached.

"Looks like you're not getting off this time, Malfoy. I'm sure this means prison time. Catalog everything".

An officer of the Department of Misuse of Muggle Artifacts was there to gather evidence. He had a ledger of registered and licensed dark artifacts that could be used against muggles. This had been a common tactic during the Wizarding War, as many muggles had been attacked and murdered. Scotland Yard still had a thick stack of cold case files from that time.

"Everything seems to be in order..."

"What?!", the lead auror called out. "Check it again".

He was as surprised to hear this as Malfoy.

"I'm telling you, everything here is registered and licensed. He'd be a fool to actually use anything we found here".

"That _can't_ be..."

"I'm sorry, but there's no arguing with the Ministry's own records".

"Then why were you going to such lengths to hide that from us, Malfoy?"

"To keep it out of the wrong hands, obviously", Malfoy improvised an explanation. He realized that his furry friend had been a good deal busier when he infiltrated the Ministry than he suspected.

"With your… ummmmm… dubious associates, I can see why".

"If you are done here..."

"Everything is in order, and on behalf of the Office of the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts, please accept our apologies for any inconvenience we've caused you".

"Good evening, Gentlemen".

 _Ministry of Magic_

"You found nothing illegal?", Amelia Bones asked Arthur Weasley.

"We found lots of possible misuses and abuses of muggle artifacts, all of which were registered and Malfoy was licensed to posses them. Some as heirlooms, others acquired legally. I've been over the records personally, and there is no mistake. We have nothing on Malfoy".

"That is as interesting as unexpected", Bones commented. "Given the guilty way he acts… It looks like the Malfoys have indeed changed, there was substance to Parkinson's accusations of betrayal of Hewhomustnotbenamed".

"Then they _are_ on the side of Light?", Weasley asked, using the old term the Order used to use to describe Voldmort's opponents. "Parkinson and Malfoy were known to be close associates".

"I'm with holding judgment for now. I suggest you do the same".

 _4 Privet Drive_

Harry and Hermione were waiting for Lupin and their first lesson as x-Hogwarts students.

"Remus", Harry greeted.

"Why did you do it?", Lupin asked, "cause the Professor to resign?"

"The Professor did it to himself. If he was blameless, he would have had no reason to fear Madam Bones. Ever since I started, all I've gotten from the Professor is lies and evasions. I have good reason to believe he was putting me in serious danger on purpose. At first, I wondered if he wasn't doing it on Whatshisname's behalf to eliminate me as a threat. Now, I believe he wants me to defeat the Dark Lord once again. Either way, he arranged for us to meet on the third floor. I know it's hard to hear this, and I'll understand if you want to discontinue our lessons".

"Professor Dumbledore _loves_ you, Harry, like a son. While they were at Hogwarts, he was very close to James and Lily – to all of us, but especially your parents. If he has kept something from you, you can be sure it was for your own good. He wouldn't put you in any danger knowingly. Quirinius Quirrel fooled a lot of people. It is very difficult to fool Albus Dumbledore, but not impossible as everyone is fallible".

Typical fanboi Lupin, Harry thought. He decided not to press the issue.

"Harry, if only you had gone to the Professor..."

"Then Dumbledore could have kept it from the Longbottoms, Grangers, the parents of every kid in Hogwarts, the Ministry. The whole clusterfuck neatly swept under the rug".

"I will not hear you speak with such disrespect..."

"If you're not comfortable with our lessons..."

"I didn't say that, of course I will continue your lessons. He would want that".

" _I bet he does, needs you to pump us for information"_ , Harry didn't say that thought out loud.

"OK, then, shall we get started? You know what a boggart is?"

As always, Hermione's hand was the first one up: "Boggarts are classed as non-beings as they have no fixed form. No one really knows what they look like. They like to inhabit dark spaces, such as unused drawers and cupboards. They are harmless, but love frightening those who discover their presence".

"Right you are. There is a counter spell, Riddikulus, that ends their malign influence by transforming them into comical forms. I assure you, no harm will come to you", as he prepared to open the small cabinet he brought for today's lesson. Ready Miss Granger?"

"How can we do this, underage magic, and in the middle of a muggle town?"

"I have an exemption as your tutor, but that exemption only applies so long as I'm with you, so don't try this when I'm not around. Understand?"

"Yes"

He opened the cabinet.

"Oh no", Hermione whimpred, "it can't be! Dear Merlin, no!"

"Wand, Miss Granger!", Lupin called out.

Hermione was dissolving into a puddle of tears…

"Riddikulus!", Lupin cast the spell.

"I… I'm… sorry, Professor".

"That's quite alright. Book learning doesn't always adequately prepare one for the real thing. That's why we're here. Harry, how about you next?"

"Ready?"

"Ready"

Lord Voldemort climbed out of the cabinet. Tall, slender, in a black robe, reptilian face, reptilian eyes. He was the frontside of Quirrel this time. He was raising his wand..."

"Riddikulus!", Harry cast.

Voldemort turned into a circus clown before slinking back into the cabinet, pulling the door closed behind it.

"Well done, Harry", Lupin congratulated. "What form did it take?"

"Whatshisname, just like I saw him back at Hogwarts".

"What did you see?", Lupin asked of Hermione.

"I saw myself… I was pregnant..."

"That doesn't sound so bad", Lupin said.

"Then I was on my back, naked. One after another, hideous, miniature Voldemorts crawled from between my legs… one after another, all bloody. Then they said they wouldn't stop coming until I was dead".

"That is really awful, but when dealing with Boggarts, it's not real. They aren't looking to hurt you, just scare you away from their lairs. Let's try again"

The cabinet opened. This time, she was ready…

"Riddikulus!"

"What did you see?", Lupin asked.

"I was an old, illiterate hag begging for knewts in Diagon Alley. Someone was saying it was a pity, failing all my courses… If I may, if it's not too personal, what do you see, Remus?"

"The full moon", he replied. "Boggarts are especially adept at seeing our worst innermost demons".

 **0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF**

Lucius Lutra stopped by for a late evening meeting.

"I didn't have much choice: Madam Bones insisted on having a little chat. I didn't tell her anything beyond what she already knew, or could find out. It looks like she's been looking into my past, after coming up dry in the Cedric Diggory investigation".

"I'm not sure you did the right thing, bringing up that prophecy".

"I didn't know what else to do. I was there, and he was going to wheedle out of it. He'd still be there, at Hogwarts, endangering more kids".

"I'm not sure this accomplishes anything, really. You said McGonagall's now Headmistress. She will be Headmistress in name only. She will allow Dumbledore to effectively rule over Hogwarts behind her back.

"Furthermore, Voldemort is likely to make another attempt. We don't know what form he takes while hiding, but it's likely his activity will center around Hogwarts, especially now, if you aren't there at the beginning of the next term..."

"All the more reason to stay well away from Hogwarts..."

"Except that he fears you. That prophecy says you are the only one destined to defeat him. If you're not there, then he is all the more likely to believe he can succeed. As for what other tricks he has up his sleeves, who knows? Possessed profs aren't likely to figure the next time".

"Are you saying I should go back?"

"No, of course not, he just might figure it's best to eliminate you first, and he just might succeed. He wasn't counting on not being able to stand your touch. As we have already seen, Voldemort doesn't care about the well being of those who get in his way, whether by chance or design. Your presence at Hogwarts could endanger who knows how many. As for myself, I fear for the safety of any kid who sets foot on that campus".

"I thought that after Flammel destroyed the Philosopher's Stone..."

"Since we have no idea what we're dealing with, I wouldn't count on the Elixir of Life being the one and only means he has to reincarnate. That would be way too easy".

"What of Madam Bones? She said she would give me something, but expects something in return. What about Sirius?"

"We have to choose allies carefully. Amelia is shaping up to be an investigator, but of what? Solving her personal mysteries, or seeking justice? Even if she is, the Ministry holds the fate of her career in its hands, and we know the Ministry is chock full of corrupt politicians who can be bought, and which seeks first and foremost to avoid embarrassment. Will she go along, or be forced out? Give her nothing until it's been cleared by me".

 _The Burrow_

"Albus, how are you doing?", Molly Weasley greeted her former Headmaster. "What can I do for you?"

"Purely a social call, as I have more time to keep up with old friends".

"Can't imagine Hogwarts without you".

"Now Molly, nothing lasts forever… There's my little angel".

Ginny Weasley was arriving with fresh pickin's from the garden.

"How do you do, Professor… Sir?"

"No need to be so formal. You'll be starting your first year next term, if I remember correctly. Lemon drop?"

"Thanks", she said as she took the offered lemon drop. "Yes, I'll be eleven next August. I can hardly wait".

"Following in your brothers' footsteps".

"I… suppose", she didn't sound quite so enthusiastic.

That evening, Ginny took down all the articles about Potter from her bedroom walls, now that the compulsions were lifted, the love potion neutralized. With Potter's departure from Hogwarts, he didn't need Ginny any more.

"Next time you go to Diagon Alley, maybe you can sell these?", she asked Molly. She had a stack of books about Harry Potter, including her autographed _Boy Who Lived_ by Lockhart.

"Not so interested in the Boy Who Lived?"

"Harry was nice enough when he visited, but so are lots of other boys. Besides, I'll be needing money for Hogwarts books".

Molly was delighted to see that her daughter's crush was over.


	21. Summer Break Pt I

**Summer Break Pt I**

Harry and Hermione slipped through the barrier and onto Platform 9.75 to wait for the arrival of the Express. The scarlet Hogwarts Express braked to a stop, and kids began to pile out of the passenger cars. Groups of parents awaiting their long departed offspring.

"Draco!", Harry called out, waving.

"Neville!", Hermione called out.

"Madam Longbottom", Lucius greeted Neville's grandmother. The tension was still there, though not what it once was.

"Mr Malfoy, Mrs Malfoy, Draco". It was uncomfortable for her, to say the least. Augusta Longbottom had long been a Dumbledore supporter on the Board, and still was.

Luna and Xeno caught up.

"Been a helluva first year", Draco said.

"It has to be one for the record books", Lucius agreed.

"Indeed", Xeno agreed. "First Luna is resorted into Slytherin, then the Dark Lord himself puts in an appearance".

"Harry, Hermione, you two are looking good", Narcissa said, "so you won't be attending Hogwarts anymore?"

"I don't see how", Hermione said.

"Not the way Uncle Vernon feels about it", Harry agreed.

"It sure is a shame losing you two", Xeno said. "With Dumbledore gone, I'm not expecting any more problems. The school will be in better, more competent, hands. Augusta looked as though she had tasted a particularly nasty potion at hearing that "Then what are your plans? It would be a terrible waste if you discontinued your education".

"Well, Mr Lovegood, my parents have enrolled me in regular summer school", Hermione explained. "They want me to have the best of both worlds".

"I… see", was all Lucius could say, as the thought Draco would ever attend muggle school never crossed his mind.

"Same for me", Harry said. "The Dursleys insisted on my continuing my muggle education. It's for the best, and I still want to go to Uni for a degree in Veterinary Medicine".

"Is that so?", Madam Longbottom said, as it was as inconceivable to her as to Lucius.

"I don't see why not. Like I told Hagrid once, I'd like to pursue both options, caring for magical and non-magical critters alike".

"I always figured you'd follow your Mum and Dad into the Auror Corps", Neville said.

"Maybe", Harry said, "I still have a lot of time to think about it".

"Don't make yourselves too shy", Narcissa said, "you still have a standing invitation to visit Malfoy Manor any time you like".

"What were you planning so far as a magical education?", Lucius asked.

"My parents are considering Beaux Batons for me", Hermione replied.

"A fine institution", Lucius agreed. "Though not quite what Hogwarts could have been..."

"You finally got your way, and Albus is out", Madam Longbottom reminded.

"How about you, Harry?", Narcissa asked to change the subject before things turned nasty.

"I… dunnow. Keep taking private lessons from Mr. Lupin? Hire other tutors?"

"How about Beaux Batons?". Hermione asked.

"Uncle Vernon might agree with that… I'll suggest it".

"Isn't that a girls' school?", Neville asked.

"For a long time, it was", Hermione explained. "It didn't start out that way, but Madam Maxime has opened enrollment for boys now".

"What are your plans for the summer?", Harry asked Neville.

"Me and Gran are going on botanical expeditions for rare magical plants".

"Dad and I are going to hunt for the Crumble Horned Snorkak in Sweden", Luna added.

"Sounds fascinating", Harry said. "We'll probably spend a couple of weeks in Majorca".

Harry noticed that Pansy was giving him a longing look. Edmond Parkinson also noticed and roughly made the girl look away.

"Miserable prat", Harry said.

"You don't want Edmond Parkinson paying you too much attention", Lucius warned. "He can be very dangerous".

"I suppose you're quite the expert on that", Augusta said. Lucius and Narcissa let that pass.

"I'll definitely keep that in mind", Harry agreed.

 **0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF**

Dudley and Harry were learning about their summer plans.

"Do I hafta?", Dudley was complaining.

"Yes, you do", Vernon reminded him, "it really isn't that horrible..."

"A fat farm..."

"It really isn't all that bad, there will be lots of fun activities like sports, swimming and horseback riding. You'll get to meet new friends, all the while, you'll be getting into shape".

"They're gonna starve us and over work us..."

"That's not the case, you'll still have nice meals, and it will do you some good to get out of doors and away from video games for a while. It's not gonna kill you, you know".

Harry's situation wasn't much different: muggle make-up summer school for the sixth grade he missed by attending Hogwarts. Of course, he knew this already, and he would be attending with Hermione, so it wasn't all that bad. Being that this was a six week accelerated course meant homework and lots of it.

 _Diagon Alley: Gringott's_

"May your gold increase exponentially and your enemy's blood bathe your sword", Harry greeted Barchoke in Gobbledygook. Harry and Hermione had an appointment.

"That's not quite how our greeting goes, but close enough", Barchoke said in English. "It does please me you're at least making an effort to learn our language and culture. How can I be of assistance this fine day?"

"I need to have a property warded".

"Which property?"

"That would be our house", Hermione explained. "You see, my parents are total muggles, and have no means to magically protect themselves".

"This would explain why your parents aren't here themselves. I do not recall the last time we ever warded a muggle residence. You have reason to believe this is necessary?"

"I do, you see, I've quite upset Whatshisname by defying him not too long ago. It's no secret that Harry and I are friends, and who knows what his followers might try to pull".

"The incident at Hogwarts. I quite understand. It so happens we have Mr. Weasley and his curse breakers working on another warding job. They could be persuaded".

"That would be most appreciated", Harry agreed. "I will take care of payments and commissions, of course".

"It can be arranged, but what of repayment?"

"That will be between me and the Grangers. They can repay in muggle currency. Conversion into Galleons and redeposited back to the Potter vault".

"For this one case, I can see the way clear to wave our usual currency conversion fees, but just this one time", Barchoke said.

"I greatly appreciate that", Harry said.

"You treat us right, and we will treat you right. Mr. Weasley will be in touch soon".

 **0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF**

"Harry! Visitor!", Petunia called out. "Do come in and make yourself to home".

"Yes?", said Harry as he arrived.

"Bill Weasley", he introduced himself. "Mom, Dad, and especially Ginny have talked a lot about you. That was a really nice thing you did for Hagrid. Charlie tells me he really enjoyed his visit with the dragons".

"It was my pleasure, I'm going to miss the Big Guy".

"Oh?"

"I guess you haven't heard… I won't be going back to Hogwarts. After all that's happened..."

"Mother is still pretty upset about that. She thinks the world of the Professor".

"So are a lot of people, but it's the Death Eaters that concern me the most. I have the protection of my mother's blood wards, but my friend is a sitting duck".

"That would be Hermione Granger, Barchoke filled me in. A sensible precaution, though most muggle-born don't usually have the need for wards.

"Do you mind if we apparate?", he asked Petunia.

"I'm sure you'll take care of Harry..."

"It's just that it's considered bad form to apparate into or out of private residences".

"Be back by dinner time".

Bill and Harry apparated to Hermione's home. Bill's curse breakers were already waiting.

"Shouldn't be too much of a job", one said. "Not like Malfoy Manor".

"You shouldn't talk about our clients", Bill warned.

"It's OK, I'm good friends with the Malfoys", Harry reminded.

"Never would've figured… Boy Who Lived in Slytherin", Bill said.

"I hear that a lot".

Harry collected a check made out to Vernon Dursley, so he could cash it for Harry. The warding job would look like landscaping to the neighbors. This involved erecting two conical stone structures at the edges of the back yard, and runestones placed along the edge of the front yard. The warding also required the necessary spells. The casting of these would look to the neighbors like surveying property lines.

"Is there any way to tie these wards into the security system, so that the police will be alerted as well?"

"That isn't possible… what security system?"

"If anyone tries to break in, the police are notified automatically, there's an alarm, spot lights, and cameras. We arm it at night and when we're away. You can't be too careful these days".

"I know next to nothing about muggle technology… your system can do that? We'll make sure the aurors know this, in case your muggle police also arrive. You should be quite safe from both magical and muggle intrusion".

"That's good to know, given Hermione's run-in with that Voldemort character… It's been a never-ending series of surprises after Ms. McGonagall arrived".

 **0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF**

The owlpost from Madam Bones arrived; she would be accompanying Harry to Azkaban to see Sirius. Being that he was still a minor, he would require supervision. It was set for the weekend before Harry started summer school. He owled back saying that apparition directly into the house wouldn't be a problem.

Saturday arrived, and so did Amelia Bones.

"We should be back later this evening", she explained. "You need not worry about Harry. The prisoners are well guarded, and we won't actually be going to the cellblocks. Harry will meet Sirius in one of our interrogation rooms".

"I'm sure it'll be fine", Vernon reassured, "he is Harry's godfather after all".

Amelia apparated Harry to a dock along the northern coast. What looked like a 1940s era motor launch awaited.

"Skip", Amelia greeted the pilot.

"Most of my passengers are on a one-way trip", he explained. "Not much in the way of luxury accommodations", he apologized.

Harry and Amelia boarded: "Here, you'll be needing these", he said as he handed over blankets. "North Sea is always pretty cold".

The launch, like the knight bus, moved over the water at an abnormal speed, the boat flying over the waves as if they didn't exist. There were a few ships off in the distance, but Harry figured no one would see. After a couple of hours, Harry guessed, the skipper pointed out:

"Azkaban Island".

The black, triangular towers of the prison rose above the horizon. Even from a distance, it made the sea seem even colder.

"The prison is guarded by Dementors, so just do your best to ignore their influence. They know better than to do any harm to visitors".

The launch pulled up to a dock, a wizarding guard helped tie up.

"Amelia Bones escorting Harry Potter", she announced.

"If you'll come with me".

They checked in at the administration building, getting paperwork verified.

"Wands", the officer at the desk requested.

"You'll get these back when you leave. Wear these badges at all times so the Dementors will let you pass".

Harry knew they wouldn't be seeing any, but their influence was unmistakable. It seemed as if there was no joy here, nor like there ever would be.

Their escort arrived to lead them to an interrogation room. There were aurors stationed at all four corners, so this wouldn't be a private conversation. A few minutes later, Sirius arrived, wearing the prison uniform: gray and black stripped pyjamas. He was chained, hands and feet. He was seated in a chair that wrapped chains around Sirius' arms and legs.

"I almost refused", he explained, "I still don't like the idea of you seeing me like this".

Sirius was thin and pallid. There was little sun this far north, and even less inside.

What they served the inmates probably fell far short of Hogwarts standards.

"I had to come, you're my godfather, after all".

"My, how you've grown, Harry. Last time I saw you you were just a babe in your mother's arms… and now, you look just like James… I suppose you're tired of hearing that".

"Not really, and I have Mother's eyes too", Harry replied.

"Yes you do".

"You've started Hogwarts? I'm guessing you followed your parents into Gryffindor?"

"Yes… and no. I was sorted into Slytherin".

"I thought… that's… interesting… My brother, Regulus, was in Slytherin"

"It's not like I ever really cared all that much about houses, and I have friends from all the houses. I even helped a Ravenclaw transfer to Slytherin. Luna Lovegood is also a good friend".

"How did that happen? Resorting just isn't done".

"It was the other girls, they were bullying her, and the Sorting Hat figured she'd be better off with her true friends, the Snakes".

"If you thought so, it was the right decision".

"There's something I need to know: did you do it? Betray my parents?"

"I would never do that: you have to believe me".

"I thought you were Secret Keeper?"

"I was the original Secret Keeper, that much is true. However, Hewhomustnotbenamed was getting closer to discovering our identities..."

"The Marauders?"

"Exactly. Since I was one of the more well known Marauders, the Professor believed it would be safer to transfer that responsibility. That way, I wouldn't be able to betray your parents' whereabouts even if I wanted to".

"That would be Dumbledore?"

"Yes, Professor Dumbledore… he's still Headmaster?"

"He retired just before the end of term. McGonagall is Headmistress now".

"I didn't think he'd ever retire".

"Some day, I'll tell you all about it. My parents?"

"Yes, the Professor thought it best if I handed over the Secret Keeper's role to Peter Pettigrew, or Wormtail, as we knew him. He wasn't so well known, not as engaged in the war effort, nor so well known around the school. He was always a follower in our pranks, never a leader. Someone who would be more likely to be overlooked.

"If you know how a Fidelius Charm works, it's only the secret Keeper who can name names and places, the only one who can cancel the Charm. The night Hewhomustnotbenamed broke in and murdered James and Lily, I caught up with the little rat. He still had the Dark Lord's wand in his hand. I chased the bastard all the way to London. I was trying to be discreet about apprehending him, but he didn't care. Right there, on a crowded street, he fired off a Bombarda. When I came to, 13 muggles lay dead, and Pettigrew was nowhere to be seen. All they found was a finger, and I was accused of killing Pettigrew and all those muggles. Then I was sent here without a semblance of a trial. As for Pettigrew, well, he was hailed as a martyred hero who died trying to apprehend the infamous Sirius Black, betrayer of the Potters. That's what they tell you, but that's not how it happened. I suppose Pettigrew took to his rat form and disappeared into the sewers".

"Then we have to get you a trial..."

"I don't see how that's possible… it will be enough for me if you tell me you believe me".

"It's hard to say, a 'he said/she said' (finger quotes) situation. It's not alright, and it's not enough, not for me. You need that day in court. If you're innocent, you need to be out of here, and if you're not, I'll personally shove you into a dungeon so deep you'll never see the light of day".

"Don't waste your time and life..."

"Being the Boy Who Lived has its perks, and one of these is finding favour with the Minister of the DMLE – Amelia Bones. Thanks to her, I was able to see you".

"Amelia is Minister?"

"Yes, you know her?"

"We served in the Auror Corps together. Barty Crouch Sr was the Minister back then. Tough as nails... he authorized the aurors to use any means necessary to stop the Death Eaters, including all the Unforgivables. He didn't care if we shot first and asked questions later".

"So he's the reason you didn't get a trial?"

"Yes, but I don't see how it makes any difference: I was as good as convicted".

"Times change, and your trial is long overdue. I'm not ready to just give up on my godfather, just like that", Harry promised.

"I don't suppose you can be talked out of it?"

"No, I can't", Harry agreed.

"Time's up", an arriving guard announced, as he was here to take Sirius back to the cellblocks.

"Is there anything you can do to reopen the case against Sirius?", Harry asked on the way back. It seemed a natural question to ask.

"You give me something, and you receive something", Amelia explained. "I still want to know how you know so much about Albus Dumbledore and what he's been doing at Hogwarts. I know you aren't doing this on your own".

"I'll get back to you on that", Harry promised.

"You also need to know that all I can do is make recommendations. It will be up to the Wizengamot to reopen the case, and there will be opposition. I can't make you any promises, you understand. If Sirius is found not guilty, it will reflect poorly on the Ministry".

"So they'd be fine with allowing a possibly innocent man rot in that place, just to avoid some embarrassment?"

"That's politics, and unfortunately, there are those who would prefer the whole affair be forgotten".

"Trying and failing is better than failing to try".

 **0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF**

"Hermione and I will take the knight bus to Malfoy Manor".

"Have fun and don't be out too late", Petunia reminded.

The bus dropped them just outside the gate: "State your business", the face in the gate challenged.

"Harry Potter and Hermione Granger here on a standing invitation".

"Enter and be welcome".

They walked hand-in-hand up the path through the gardens, to the front door.

"So nice of you to visit", Narcissa greeted. "Do come in and make yourselves to home".

"Hey, Draco, s'up?", Harry greeted.

"You'll be pleased to know that without Dumbledumbass's interference, Slytherin won the House Cup. Sorry, Hermione, but Gryffindor came in dead last. Not exactly a negative point count, but close enough, so I'll waive our bet.

"You'll be pleased to know Gryffindor won the Quiddich Cup. We did manage to finish just ahead of the book worms", he said to Hermione.

"That's… nice", she said without much enthusiasm as she wasn't much interested in Quiddich, and considered winning a House Cup more important as academic standing figured into the point count.

"So what are you up to?", Draco asked.

"I got to see Sirius – my godfather – but… I don't know. Amelia Bones says she'll do her best, but doesn't hold out much hope the Wizengamot will reopen the case so he can finally have a trial".

"How about some refreshments?", Narcissa asked.

"If it wouldn't be too much bother...", Hermione started.

"Not at all… Dobby!"

"Mistress call Dobby?", the house elf appeared at once.

"Greetings Master Harry, Mistress Hermione", he said.

"We could all use some refreshments", Narcissa explained.

"Right away, Mistress", Dobby disappeared.

Dobby set the table, and provided sandwiches, soup, and butterbeer.

"What do you think about Sirius and his situation?", Lucius asked.

"I really don't know. He says it was Peter Pettigrew who dropped the Fidelius and killed all those muggles, and they're saying it was Sirius, one blaming the other with no evidence either way. I hope he didn't do it, he is my godfather after all. Still, how can you send a man to Azkaban without giving him his day in court? That's just not right".

"It is, unfortunately, how the Ministry works. If you had been there, you would know. Lots of hard feelings after the Dark Lord fell; no one accused of being in league with him would ever receive a fair trial".

"That's what Hagrid said, but that was then. This is now, and surely those feelings have subsided? He should still have had a trial a long time ago. I don't care how embarrassing it would be to Fudge, it's still the right thing to do".

"Indeed it is, and it's good Madam Bones is looking into the matter. She's probably the most honest member of Fudge's government, but she does serve at his pleasure. I wouldn't gt your hopes up of a swift resolution".

After Exploding Snaps, Wizard Chess, and other amusements, Draco said it was too bad there weren't enough for pick-up Quiddich.

"Hold that thought", Harry said. "I know where we can get some players".

Harry threw some Floo Powder into the kitchen fire: "The Burrow!", he called out.

"Hello", Harry called out.

"Harry?", Molly was in her own kitchen. "Wasn't expecting to hear from you". It was obvious she was less than pleased at his appearance in her kitchen fire.

"I'm at Malfoy Manor, and I was wondering if Fred, George, and Ron were available for some Quiddich".

"Did we hear out names?", Fred and George said.

"Hey guys", Harry said, "you up for some pick-up Quiddich?"

"Always"

"Have you two finished your chores?", Molly asked.

"Yes, Mother", they replied.

"How about me?", Ginny came to see what was going on.

"Go ahead", Molly gave her permission. "Ron can't come", she explained.

Fred, George, and Ginny went to collect their brooms and padding.

"That's too bad", Harry lied, "tell Ron we missed him".

No Weasley had ever set foot in Malfoy Manor, and so were all eyes everywhere. Ginny couldn't help but compare the manor to the Burrow. The Burrow started out as a stone stable, and had been converted into a house with additions of wooden rooms and floors. The add-ons done haphazardly, giving the whole house a crooked look. She felt some embarrassment over wearing hand-me-down robes, even though these were her finest. The contrast between the threadbare carpeting at the Burrow, the second hand furniture, shabby wall decorations couldn't have been greater. It took a good deal of effort to keep that hidden.

They negotiated the teams: Harry, Fred, and Hermione versus Draco, George, and Ginny: Red v. Green. Since the teams were short, they played without Bludgers and Beaters, just a Keeper, Seeker, and Chaser. Dobby kept the score. Lucius and Narcissa provided the audience and referees.

Hermione never played before, but caught on quickly as a Keeper.

"Mistress Ginny catches the Snitch!", Dobby called out. "Green wins!"

"How could you let the little girl get the Snitch?", Draco asked Team Slytherin's best Seeker.

"Where did you learn to fly like that?", Fred and George asked their little sister. Ginny wasn't allowed to play at the Burrow as her older brothers played a rough and tumble game.

"I sneak out at night to practice flying", Ginny answered. "I know Mother wouldn't permit it".

"You do know, Little Sister, you just handed us blackmail material?", Fred said.

"You are now ours", George agreed. "I think we've just found a way to get out of doing all the dishes".

"Wait till Mother finds out", Fred continued the ribbing.

"Well, in that case", Ginny said, "I'll just have to tell Mother all about those plans of yours to drop out of Hogwarts to run a joke shop".

"OK, OK, we won't tell if you don't tell. How did you know? Spying on us?"

"You two should be more careful about what you leave lying around the drawing room. You left a sample price list in plain sight. I could have shown it to Mother, but I didn't".

"Say, how come Ron didn't come?", Harry asked. "I thought he was the big Quiddich fan".

"Summer school", Fred and George didn't elaborate. They didn't have to.

"He's not the only one", Harry said. "Me and Hermione too, muggle make-up classes".


	22. Summer Break Pt II

**Summer Break Pt II**

"Hey, Hedwig, I need you to take this letter to Lucius Lutra's holt"

The letter explained what Amelia Bones had said: she wanted more information. She was too sharp for Harry to play dumb here. He needed to know what he could share, a delicate balancing act: give her something, but not too much. It was inevitable that Amelia nd Lucius would have to meet, but that time was not now. No way to tell how she'd react to a sapient animal who shouldn't exist.

Petunia drove Harry to the school where the summer cram class was being held. He met up with Hermione there. It was as expected: a lot of work to be done with very little time to do it. For the next six weeks, there wouldn't be a whole lot of playtime, even on weekends.

Hedwig arrived with Lucius' reply:

 _Dear Harry:_

 _I can appreciate your dilemma, and it wasn't all that unexpected. I agree: keep me out of it for now, at least until I have more that we can give the Directrix of the DMLE. For now, you can show her the financial records from Hogwarts, which I include here. This should keep her busy for awhile. I would wait until she asks, don't volunteer anything. I repeat: it looks like she is working on reopening Sirius' case anyway, even if she treats this as a quid pro quo._

 _You can also mention that I'm doing research on the nature of the Dark Mark. I should have some results for you soon. When dealing with Amelia Bones, use your better judgment._

 _Lucius_

"What did he say?", Petunia asked.

"Just that Madam Bones is trying to get my godfather's case reopened, and he gave me some information he thought she might find interesting".

"When, do you suppose that will be?"

"I have no idea. The Ministry of Magic doesn't believe there's any urgency – too many politicians who could be embarrassed. Still, I don't know… we don't really have any evidence he's innocent. If they convict, he goes right back to Azkaban".

"Is there nothing your friend can do?"

"One thing that would help greatly is locating Peter Pettigrew. Sirius said he fled the scene as a rat, but how we'd ever find him now, who knows? He hasn't been seen since".

 **0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF**

Edmond Parkinson and his associate were standing on the sidewalk, in front of a rather common suburban dwelling. They were wearing their full Death Eater uniforms, though no muggle would see them.

"How can a muggle house have wards?"

"You asked that already, and the answer hasn't changed: I don't know", Parkinson told his more dimwitted companion.

"We can't get the Potter brat, Dumbledore's seen to that, and the Mudblood is our only hope for getting at him. He must pay for preventing the Dark Lord from reincarnating".

"Yes, Potter has been a thorn in the side of the Dark Lord for far too long now. Ward stones, we need ward stones, and I know where we can get some".

They disapparated.

 _Malfoy Manor_

"You are not welcome here", the face in the gate told these two.

"We're on business on behalf of the Dark Lord. We need to see Lucius"

"You are not welcome here", they were told again.

" _MALLLL-FOYYYYY!_ ", Parkinson screamed at the Manor house.

"Now what?"

"Let me think", Parkinson said. "This traitor will be dealt with sooner or later".

 **0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF**

"How was school today?", Petunia asked as she picked him up.

"Busy, very, very busy. I know they're just hitting the highlights, but still… this homework".

"Best to get to it then".

"I don't see any alternatives here".

"By the way, you received an owlpost while you were out", Petunia handed over the letter as soon as he returned home.

"It's from Madam Bones", Harry announced. "She was wondering how I'm coming along. I have something I can send back", Harry said as he went to get the packet of information Lucius sent him.

 _Dear Madam Bones:_

 _As I promised when we were visiting Sirius, I have some information concerning the financial records from Hogwarts. X-Headmaster Dumbledore has been, shall we say, less than honest in his dealings with some of his students. I know it looks pretty bad, but I'm informed he did this in order to finance his Order of the Phoenix, and the opposition to Voldemort. He still believes there is good reason to suspect that Voldemort is making good on his promises to come back. You've seen this for yourself just weeks ago._

 _Harry_

"Take this to the Ministry of Magic, Madam Bones' office at the Department of Magical Law Enforcement", he explained to Hedwig.

"I'm going out..."

"What about your homework?"

"I think it will go faster and better if I and Hermione work on this together".

"That's fine, Dear, but make sure that you do. No playing games or goofing off. This is too important".

"I promise. Besides you know how serious she is when it comes to school work".

He stepped outside to summon the Knight Bus.

"Harry?", Hermione asked.

"How about we study together? I could use a study partner. You could too".

"I think that's a wonderful idea", she agreed.

"Then let's get to it".

 _London: Ministry of Magic_

Amelia Bones stared at the pages Harry had Hedwig drop off yet again. The ongoing corruption at Hogwarts was all but unimaginable. This was definitely Azkaban-worthy, but Azkaban for who? It would most likely cost Dumbledore his positions as Chief Warlock and Supreme Mugwump, but even that was unlikely, as Dumbledore set everything up to lay the whole thing in Minerva McGonagall's lap. It was, after all, her signatures on all financial records. Given the popularity of the former Headmaster, cultivated over more decades than she'd been alive, it was all too likely no one would ask too many questions, and another innocent would be going to Azkaban instead of the one who really needed to. After all, he did it in the name of a good cause, and those who had lost loved ones and been terrorized by the rampage of the Dark Lord would gladly overlook anything Dumbledore did in the name of putting an end to their ordeal.

"Albus", Ludo Bagman greeted. "I thought you'd be retiring to that country cottage".

"Ah, yes, some day, but we still have work to do here".

"The help of the Supreme Mugwump is always appreciated. It's a rare honor, you know. We haven't hosted a World Cup in over thirty years. It may seem like a long way off, but that time will fly".

"I definitely agree. There never seems to be enough time", Dumbledore said.

Ludo Bagman was the Director of the Department of Magical Games and Sports. It was his office which had the responsibility for regulating professional teams to insure honest play, as the temptation to fix games for insider gamblers and bookies was as great among magicals as muggles. His office also dealt with his counterparts abroad for international competitions, such as the Quiddich World Cup. Ludo was especially suited for this position, as he played professionally for the Wimbourne Wasps. He was still considered their best Beater. A good second career choice for a retired player.

For Albus Dumbledore, the timing could not be more fortuitous. If he played this hand right, he would be back at Hogwarts, and back on top.

 **0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF**

It was a day like any other, or at least that's how it began. Harry struggling with converting fractions to decimals when there was a commotion outside the classroom. He didn't like the sound of that, and readied his wand.

Two Death Eaters in full regalia burst into the room. The other students, nor knowing if this wasn't a terrorist attack, hit the deck or ducked under their desks.

"Stupify!", one fired at the arithmetic instructor, dropping him.

"Petrificus totalis!", the other fired.

"Protego!", Hermione deflected the spell, sending it into another student.

"Expelliarmis!", Harry used the disarming charm to relieve him of his wand.

"Stupify!", Hermione hit him, knocking him down.

"Stupify!", Harry tried taking the other Death Eater down. He ducked and ran.

Neither were expecting this level of resistance, as they had not known of Lupin and his private lessons. Edmond Parkinson ran from the room, disapparating just ahead of the arrival of the Obliviators and investigators of the Misuse of Magic Department.

"Let's see who you are", one revived the stricken Death Eater.

"You won't", he said.

"Sticking charm", one officer told the other.

"It's off to Azkaban with you; let the Dementors deal with you.

"No, you won't", he replied defiantly.

There was a soft crunch, then foam began pouring from the mouth of the silver mask. He dropped.

"What..."

"Smell that?", it was Hermione, "a cross between peach blossom and almonds: cyanide".

With the death of the caster, the mask fell free.

"And you are?"

"Hermione Granger. There were two of them, one got away".

"Potter, Harry Potter. I'm the one they were after".

"Since you two are underage, worked magic around muggles, you will have to come with us".

Harry and Hermione were apparated to the Ministry.

"I would like to sit in", Amelia Bones was also waiting.

"This isn't your department".

"A professional courtesy"

"Certainly, we found Potter with this", he handed over the wand he'd taken from the fallen Death Eater. It was very similar to Harry's special wand, and likely from the same source.

"Not Ollivander's work", Amelia agreed.

"What were you doing in that muggle school?"

"Make-up for missing the last school year", Harry explained. "We're also continuing our muggle education".

"That's right", Hermione agreed. "It was what we agreed upon before I started Hogwarts".

"That's highly unusual, but it does explain their presence", the officer from the Misuse department said.

A message runner said something to Amelia.

"It looks like the DMLE is involved now", she said, "this has become a murder investigation. A man has died.

"You two, come with me".

"Our parents...", Hermione began.

"Will be informed as soon as possible", Bones reminded.

"Explain", she demanded.

Harry and Hermione told everything they knew, everything they saw.

"We didn't kill the bastard", Harry began.

"Nevertheless, people have a strange way of dying around you, Mr. Potter. First Mr. Quirrel, and now our unknown".

"He did that to himself".

"I know I smelled cyanide", Hermione said, "a suicide capsule. I know it's muggle, but still extremely effective".

"How would you know, Young Lady?"

"I smelled it, a very distinctive odor".

"There's no mention of that".

"Not everyone can smell cyanide", Hermione explained. "You don't have to believe me, but you can believe your own autopsy".

"How were you able to stop two wizards?"

"They thought they were dealing with a couple of kids fresh out of First Year, taught by an incompetent Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. We've been taking lessons on our own. He taught us the Expelliarmus", Harry explained.

"And Shield Charms", Hermione added.

"I see", Amelia said, "and this tutor would be?"

"Remus Lupin, he was a friend of my father's from their Hogwarts days", Harry explained.

"I know the name. We shall see, but it looks like a case of defense of innocent life, but that's up to the Wizengamot to decide. Until then, I'll need your wands".

"Then how do you expect us to protect ourselves?", Hermione complained.

"You are determined to see this muggle education through?"

"We are", Harry and Hermione said together.

"I can see my way to stationing an auror presence while you attend. But I warn you: home or school, I would advise against going anywhere else unless it's absolutely necessary, although I'm not expecting more attacks, considering how disastrous this latest attempt proved".

"Harry, I need to ask you, in private..."

"Anything you can say to me, you can say to the both of us".

"Very well, just how did you come by Hogwarts financial records?"

"Dumbledore kept them in his office, not well hidden at all, and I have an inside track".

"Who? One of the professors, or Argus Filch?"

"I'd rather not say right now, if you don't mind".

"Oh, but I _do_ mind, very much. If it wasn't one of the staff, then it had to be one of the house elves. House elves aren't known for being subversives, but there are exceptions to every rule.

"I also noticed these documents aren't in any form I recognize".

"They're photocopies".

"Photocopies?"

"It's a muggle technology. Arthur Weasley can explain it".

"Did he have anything..."

"No, absolutely not. Let's just say I have friends who have friends..."

"Are you talking about Lucius Malfoy again? Did he have something to do with how you acquired these confidential records?"

"In a way, but only peripherally".

"You didn't come by them legally, did you?"

"Not exactly".

 **0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF**

 _Beaux Batons Academy_

When Vernon heard about the attack, that settled it for him. At first, he and Petunia were insisting that Harry would attend Harebell's – a magical day school with none of the prestige of Hogwarts. It was to schools like this that the students of families who couldn't afford the tuition, and couldn't get scholarships, went. This would keep Harry close to home, he could be home for dinner every school day. At least France would put some distance between Harry and Voldemort's left over Death Eaters.

"Vee vould be pleased to enroll 'Arry", Madam Maxine was explaining. "Is dare a problem with 'Ogwarts?"

Madam Maxine looked as though she could be Hagrid's sister, unusually tall and built almost like the Gamekeeper.

"Yes, indeed", Vernon explained, "some… ummmmm… incidents that lead me to believe Harry shouldn't go back".

"I believe I know vhat you refer to, but Dumbledore isn't in charge, no?"

"No, but I still don't trust how that place is being run".

"'Arry, you vouldn't 'ave a problem with learning French? You vill be permitted to use translation charms your first year, but if you continue, your instruction vill be conducted in French".

"No, Ma'am, I wouldn't".

"You vill also be expected to vear the school uniform while on campus, and in public representing Beaux Batons. Vill you 'ave a problem vith dat?"

"I've seen the brochure, but there weren't any guys in the photos".

"'Ere at Beaux Batons, dere is _one_ uniform every student is expected to vear, and one standard of appearance to up'old. This will be explained to you vhen you get your student 'andbook".

"That will take some getting used to, but like they say, 'When in Rome, etc, etc, etc".

"Very vell, let's get you measured for uniforms. You vill be sent your list of books and supplies, and uniforms before the start of the term.

"Vee do 'ave a problem", Madam Maxine said, "it would seem you failed Potions".

"I can explain that: Snape had it in for me ever since I started, something to do with my father and his friends".

"Snape?"

"Severus Snape, the Potions Professor. He accused me of cheating because I consulted an older Hogwarts text. These new Potions texts aren't very good, and got a lot of details wrong. It's no wonder why so many hat Potions and Snape. He gave me a 'U' and kicked me out of the rest of the term".

"That is unfortunate. Here at Beaux Batons we do not punish students for showing initiative. If you can pass our final exam in first year Potions, you will receive full credit".

"What about travel? Hogwarts had the Hogwarts Express".

"You vill also receive a Portkey directly to our campus. It will be sent to you so that you can have the time to acquire everything you will need to start the term".

"Then I'll see you in September, Ma'am".

"Take care, 'Arry Potter"


	23. Second Year: Beaux Batons

**Second Year: Beaux Batons**

Dudley returned from camp looking slimmer and more buff than he'd ever been. He knew he would have to avoid pudging up again, as he'd been given a new wardrobe. He'd also discovered a physical activity at the camp he could enjoy: boxing. The boarding school he attended, Smeltings (Vernon's alma mater) had a boxing team.

Between Harry's legal troubles and preparations for Beaux Batons, the Dursleys were able to shoe horn in ten days in Majorca. The Wizengamot inquest cleared Harry and Hermione, who got their wands back. The Death Eater, Dolohov, still had fragments of the glass suicide capsule in his mouth, cause of death: suicide by cyanide. That was disappointing as the aurors never got the chance to interrogate him under Veritas to discover who his accomplices were. Barchoke took care of setting up an account with their French branch to take care of Harry's expenses, for a fee, of course.

"Package for you", Petunia announced.

"From Beaux Batons", Harry explained.

The package contained the student handbook, two new uniforms, and a Portkey, which was set to activate in three days. Harry went on upstairs to try on his new uniform. The Beaux Batons uniform consisted of a blue-gray, silk dress that came to the knees, black silk stockings, black and white, high heels with leather tassels, a jacket of the same blue-gray with black trim, and a hat with brim that came to a point – a stylized witch's hat. Harry came down the stairs unsteadily on high heels.

"Oooo La La!"

"Shutup Dudley", Harry told his step brother.

He spun, making the hem of the dress fly out.

"What do you think?", he asked.

"I dunnow 'bout this", Vernon said. "Making guys dress like girls, it just isn't… natural".

"It's a requirement", Harry reminded. "Just consider it a type of kabuki"

"Come on upstairs", Petunia said, "If I had a daughter...". Harry was about to get his first lessons in how to apply make-up, and to dress and act like a young lady. "You'll want to look nice for school".

Harry got off owlposts to Draco, to whom he sent the Marauder's Map. He sent letters to Neville, the Weasleys, Luna, and Millicent to let them know where he was going.

"Looks like I'm off", Harry announced, as he had his trunk and Hedwig's cage. He was wearing his uniform. The Portkey was a literal key, like an antique door key. "See you Christmas", he said.

"Good luck, Harry", Vernon gave a hug.

"Have fun and learn well", Petunia said.

"Don't go queer on us", Dudley said.

The key glowed with a purple light like a corona discharge; Harry grabbed his trunk. There was a feeling of acceleration, and Harry was flying. The wind roared in his ears, and it looked like flying down a tunnel. If this was aberration, it meant he was going nearly light speed. He wondered how that was possible.

He landed unsteadily on the lawn of Beaux Batons. The campus, located somewhere in the French Pyreneese, wasn't an old castle like Hogwarts, but could easily have been any modern muggle university campus. The differences being that the campus was well away from muggle cities and towns, and concealed under Glamour, Disillusion, and Muggle Repelling Charms.

There was another early arrival: Hermione.

"Velcome, velcome", Madam Maxime greeted, "'Arry, 'Ermione, velcome to Beaux Batons. The 'ouse elves will take your things. Allow me to show you around".

Beaux Batons didn't have anything like Hogwarts' Houses, which was fine by Harry. The Academy was also more self-contained, being that you could get all your books and supplies from the campus bookstore, and, unsurprisingly for Harry, for less than what he'd pay at Flourish and Blotts. Being an early arrival, he had his pick of dorm rooms in the men's section. Unlike Hogwarts, it was warded against females. The girls' dorms were warded against guys.

There was a wand inspection, and Harry needed to keep his special wand out of sight, as the French Ministry was a party to the International Secrecy Treaty, had the equivalent of the Misuse of Magic department and the Underage Sorcery sub-department, and all French magi had a Tracer until they were of age. Their wands passed.

Harry was put through his potions brewing paces, and passed easily. It was obvious just how unfair Snape's 'U' failing grade was.

 _Ottery St Catchpole: The Burrow:_

"Your letters from Hogwarts", Molly announced as George and Fred were coming down the stairs. This letter contained a list of books they would require for the new term.

All Defense Against the Dark Arts students will require:

 _Gadding with Ghouls / Gilderoy Lockhart_

 _Holidays with Hags / Gilderoy Lockhart_

 _Travels with Trolls / Gilderoy Lockhart_

 _Voyages with Vampyres / Gilderoy Lockhart_

 _Wanderings with Werewolves / Gilderoy Lockhart_

 _Year with the Yeti / Gilderoy Lockhart_

 _Break with a Banshee / Gilderoy Lockhart_

 _The Boy Who Lived: A True Story / Gilderoy Lockhart_

"Looks like our new DADA prof is a fangurl", George announced.

It was no secret that Gilderoy Lockhart's fanbase was mostly middle aged women.

"Sure does", Fred agreed, "but aren't Lockhart's books expensive? We're not getting off cheap this year"

"I'm sure we'll manage", Molly Weasley explained, though didn't conceal the look of worry as well as she'd've liked. "I expect we can get most of Ginny's things second-hand".

Ginny shot her mother a foul look. Second hand, always second hand, for Ginny and Ron. She was sick of it.

"Morning, all", Percy was joining them, so no one noticed Ginny, "lovely day, isn't it?", he greeted. "Got your letters from Hogwarts?"

"You know anything about why we need all of Lockhart's books?", Fred asked.

"Done polishing your Prefect badge?", George said. "I'm surprised you haven't polished off the writing".

Percy decided to let that one go.

"Not a clue, no idea who the new DADA prof'll be this year. Hopefully, whoever it is, will be better than the last one. Can't get much worse", Percy told him.

As for Ron, he didn't need new books as he was repeating the first year, given his rotten grades. He'd just barely missed expulsion, but for the make-up work he did at Harebell's over his worst, most devoid of fun, summer ever.

 _London: Diagon Alley_

Molly collected everything from their meager vault at Gringott's. Outside, they separated. Arthur was needed at the Ministry to organize more raids, and Ron was staying behind to de-gnome the garden yet again.

De-gnoming involved coaxing one or two from their gnomeholes, grab them, avoid their nasty bites, then spin them over your head to get them good and disoriented, then fling them over the hedge. Once one or two were caught, the rest would come out to see what was going on, as they really weren't so bright. This time, Ron had different ideas. He retrieved an old air rifle from Arthur's shed filled with muggle tech he was working on. Once he had all the gnomes disoriented, he picked them off, one-by-one. That way, the little bastards wouldn't be coming back. He would have done this sooner, but knew his parents wouldn't approve. It would have saved him some time over the summer of endless chores and summer school.

"Not _one_ step down Knockturn Alley!", she called out to the Twins, who'd been itching to visit for the longest time.

"Yes, Mother" they said in chorus. They knew that they had best not disobey because she had an uncanny knack for sniffing out disobedience.

Fred and George met up with their friend, Lee Jordan. Molly took Ginny with her to a store that sold second-hand robes. Percy said something about needing new quills. Fred, George, and Lee went straight to Gambol and Japes Joke Shop to stock up on Dr. Filibuster's Wet Start, No Fire, Fireworks that would come in handy for a year's worth of pranks.

At a small junk shop that featured broken wands, out of calibration brass scales, old robes stained and burnt by potions, other useless bric-a-brac, they met up with Percy, who was perusing an old book: _Hogwarts Prefects and Their Careers._

"A study of Hogwarts prefects and their post Hogwarts careers", Lee read from the back cover. "That looks positively exciting".

"Mind your own business", Percy told him.

"Don't mind him...", Fred began.

"… Perce is very ambitious", George finished the explanation, "our dear brother wants to become the youngest Minister of Magic ever elected".

"A little ambition wouldn't hurt you two", Percy told his brothers.

"And being a little more sociable and a lot less a stick in the mud would do you a world of good", Fred replied.

"When are you two ever gonna grow up?"

"Just f'kin' wonderful", Fred said under his breathe as they approached Flourish and Blotts. An uncharacteristically large crowd of mostly middle aged women had gathered outside.

A sign above the door explained why.

 _TODAY ONLY!_

 _GILDEROY LOCKHART WILL BE SIGNING COPIES OF HIS NEW BOOK_

 _MAGICAL ME_

 _12:30 – 4:30_

"We'll get to meet him!", Molly announced with excitement.

"Why don't we Floo home and come back later?", George asked.

"You know we're running low on Floo Powder", Molly reminded.

"Just our luck to stumble across this", Fred complained.

A harried looking wizard was trying to keep some semblance of order: "Ladies, please, no shoving. Form an orderly line, and watch the books!"

"This'll take forever", George was complaining, as they joined the queue.

They made their way inside as the line snaked around the store, between every shelf. The Twins were barely able to grab copies of _The Standard Book of Spells, Grade_ _3_ _._ Lockhart was at a table in the very back of the store. He wore forget-me-not blue robes that matched his eyes. He was surrounded by photos of his smiling face, winking at the ladies while flashing his trade mark, dazzling white teeth in that smile that won _Witch Weekly's_ Most Charming Smile Award.

"Watch where you're going", a nervous seeming photographer complained as he stepped on George's foot. He had a very old fashioned box camera that used flash powder that gave off a cloud of white smoke. "This is for the _Prophet_ ".

"Big f'kin' deal", George complained.

"Language!", Molly reprimanded.

"But he just tramped all over my feet"

Lockhart noticed: "It would seem we have a couple of skeptics among us", he announced. "Why don't you come up here?", he invited.

George and Fred had no choice as the crowd parted like the Red Sea.

"We didn't know about this...", George began.

"… All we're doing is trying to get our texts for school", Fred finished.

"You're twins", Lockhart announced the obvious, "and the rest of your family?"

"Our mother and sister".

"Come on up", Lockhart invited, as Molly and Ginny joined the twins.

"And you are...", he began.

"Molly Weasley..."

"Ginny..."

"And you've already met the Twins...", Molly started.

"Fred…

...And George..."

"Or am I Fred, and you're George?"

"I think we got it right the first time".

Lockhart and the crowd laughed: "I see you have a sense of humour", Lockhart said, "that will take you far. When you become as famous as I.

"Please forgive me for delaying your preparations for school", Lockhart announced to the crowd. "Nothing is more important than a good education, so here you go, all my books for free to the future scholars, and signed for no extra cost".

Lockhart handed all the Weasleys stacks of the books they would need for DADA.

"Speaking of our future scholars, this is also an auspicious moment for my next announcement. This year, I shall be taking my place on Hogwarts faculty as the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor".

Polite applause interrupted his speech.

"Thank you… thank you. I believe it is time for me to give back by sharing my experience with our future wizards. What role is more suited to my experience? I promise to do right by all my new students, who will have the benefits of my experience with battling the forces of darkness".

More applause followed, and Lockhart was eating it up.

As they were leaving, someone in black robes, face concealed, tripped Ginny, sending her already dented, used cauldron, contents flying, as it clattered to the pavement, earning even more dents.

"Are you alright?", another passer by stopped to help Ginny to her feet. "I'll get that", he said as he went to retrieve her cauldron and its contents.

"What happened here?", Molly asked.

"That inconsiderate git just ran over the little girl". He pointed down the street, but the git was nowhere to be seen. "I was just helping her gather her things"

"You OK?", Molly asked Ginny. "Thank you for your help", she said to the friendly stranger

"Just a bit shaken up", Ginny explained. "Thanks for helping", she said.

"I don't know what it is with people these days", Molly said.

"Quite", Edmond Parkinson agreed, "no sense of politeness or social decorum. It's the times we live in".

Molly and Ginny continued on their way to Ollivander's to get Ginny a wand. That would be the one and only new thing she would take to Hogwarts.

After returning to The Burrow, Ginny was packing her trunk (second-hand) for Hogwarts: "Hell'd this come from?", she asked herself.

From her cauldron, she pulled out a small book with a black leather cover, very old. Inside, the pages yellow with age. The only thing written in it was a fading signature on the inside fly leaf:

"This diary belongs to _"

The blank filled in with: "T. M. Riddle", signed with a quill.

A stamp on the inside of the back cover said it came from a shop on Vauxhall Road, London, and likely long out of business. It was obviously muggle in origin, each page dated starting with January 1, for one year. Whoever this T. M. Riddle was, he (she?) had written nothing in the diary. Ginny decided she could use it as she packed it away.

 _Hogwarts: Great Hall:_

The Sorting was nearly complete: "Weasley, Ginerva", Pomona Sprout, the new Deputy Headmistress called out. Ginny stepped up confidently as she'd seen all the A through V names sorted ahead of her. She put on the Sorting Hat.

"I see we have a Gryffindor legacy…", the Hat said. "Your whole family has a long tradition with Gryffindor..."

 _(Anywhere but Gryffindor… Anywhere but Gryffindor… Anywhere but Gryffindor… )_

"Ummmmm...", the Hat said, "I'm sensing in this one a strong desire to make it on her own merits… That ambition is a Slytherin trait..."

 _(I'll take it… I'll take it… I'll take it… )_

"Still, Slytherin wouldn't be quite right for you, so it has to be…"

Ginny held her breathe: _(Please not Gryffindor)_

"… Ravenclaw!"

The bronze eagle appeared on her robe, and the Ravenclaws clapped and waved her over to their table. Ron, Percy, Fred and George looked on, jaws flapping, as their sister became the only Weasley in two generations who wasn't in Gryffindor. Arthur and Molly also were thunderstruck as they'd figured their daughter would have wanted to join the House of her brothers, parents, and the greatest wizard of the century: Dumbledore. They couldn't understand why she looked so damn pleased with her Sorting.

 _Beaux Batons:_

There wasn't an actual Welcome Feast, such as that of Hogwarts, though Madam Maxime did make announcements occasionally. This was one of those times:

"It is my pleasure to announce the arrival of two new students from across the Channel", she said in French. "Would you give 'Arry Potter and 'Ermione Granger a warm welcome".

The rest of the girls, and a few guys applauded.

"Come on up and introduce yourselves", she encouraged.

Harry, with Barchoke's help, had located a Universal Translator in a specialty shop in Knockturn Alley, for a commission on sales.

"If I had known I would be giving a speech, I would have prepared one. Anyway, I'm Harry Potter. Due to circumstances beyond my control, I and my family decided that Beaux Batons would be a better fit for me, and so here I am. I hope to make new friends, and am looking forward to joining one of your Quiddich teams. That's all I can think of at the moment".

"Hi. I'm Hermione Granger, also from England. It was the same for me: Hogwarts just wasn't working out. I was sorry to go and leave old friends behind, but am looking forward to making new ones here", she said in halting French.

"We are glad to have you here with us", Madam Maxime said.

Harry had met his dorm mate: Henri Poincare.

"Wasn't that also the name of..."

"A great, great, grand uncle", Henri confirmed. "You know, he did actually discover the Theory of Relativity years before Einstein took all the credit?"

"I hadn't heard".

"It's true, The muggles know him as a great scientist, but he was also a great mage. That's why he didn't publicize everything he did, that would raise too many questions. He had a lot to hide, and not just from the muggles".

"He was a technomage?"

"I can neither confirm nor deny. Let's just say he was talented in a great many ways, more than anyone – magical or muggle – suspected. How else did he make his discoveries years before he should have? France has always been a leader when it comes to science", he said with pride.

"So you're Harry Potter? _The_ Harry Potter, who banished Voldemort all those years ago? And again last year?"

"I was hoping to leave all that behind, and, for once, just be me. Yeah, I'm here because of Dumbledore's irresponsibility, and my folks wouldn't let me go back".

"It's a small world, Harry, and the Channel isn't wide enough to shut out the goings-on of your island. I promise I won't make a big deal of it if you won't".

"Deal"

Harry and Hermione had Defense as their first class of the day – their first class at Beaux Batons. Had it not been for Remus Lupin, they would have been completely lost. The first class was an introduction to boggarts.

"Can anyone tell us what boggarts are?", the male instructor asked.

Harry and Hermione had their hands up first.

"Yes, Miss..."

"Actually it's Mister, Harry Potter, Sir".

He repeated what he'd learned from Remus.

"Excellent explanation, Mr. Potter. He is, of course, right. Boggarts have no fixed form, but change their appearance to protect their lairs. Ready?"

"Ready", Harry had his wand out.

Again, he saw Voldemort's exiting from the cabinet.

"Riddikalous!", he cast the charm that neutralized Boggart attacks. The boggart slinked back into his cabinet and closed the door.

"Well done, Harry. What form did it take?"

"That of a rather unpleasant individual I once had the misfortune to meet", he didn't elaborate.

"The boggart will appear as that which you dread the most", the instructor continued his explanation. "It means to scare you, but they really are no threat. "How about you, Miss..."

"Hermione", Hermione told her name.

"Can you demonstrate for us?"

"Certainly", this time, she was ready for whatever appeared.

This time, as the last, she watched herself giving birth to lots of hideous, bloody Voldemorts.

"Riddikalous!", she fired off the spell.

"What did you see?"

"I'd really rather not say", she explained, "it's a bit too personal, if you don't mind".

"How did you two know?", they guessed the reputation of Hogwarts defense problems had crossed the Channel.

"We hired a private tutor", Harry explained. "An old friend of the family".

"I admire your initiative, and your maturity to recognize you needed outside help", Harry and Hermione were congratulated.

"Tell that to Snape", Harry thought to himself sourly.

 _Hogwarts: Defense Against the Dark Arts_

After the class was seated, Lockhart cleared his throat loudly. The students fell silent. He picked up a book at random from Neville's stack, _Voyages with Vampyres_ , and showed them his smiling face on the back cover.

"Me", he said, as he replicated the smile of the photo. "Gilderoy Lockhart: Order of Merlin, Third Class; Honourary Member of the Dark Force Defense League, and five time winner of _Witch Weekly'_ s Most Charming Smile Award. Of course, I'm not here to discuss that. After all, I didn't banish the Bandon Banshee by smiling at her".

He waited for the laughter he was expecting, getting but a few weak smiles back.

"Ummmmm… I was expecting Harry Potter..."

"He doesn't attend Hogwarts any more", Neville called out.

"Unfortunate… most unfortunate… I was hoping to include the Boy Who Lived as an adjunct professor. We would have made a great team.

"I see all of you have a complete set of my books. Well done", he congratulated. "Since this is our first class together, I thought we would start with a little quizz. Not to worry, this is just so I can familiarize myself with you, it won't count for your grade".

He handed out stacks: "Take one and pass the rest back".

"You have thirty minutes".

Draco looked at the questions, not believing what he saw.

 _1) What is Gilderoy Lockhart's favourite colour?_

 _2) What is Gilderoy Lockhart's secret ambition?_

 _3) What, in your opinion, is Gilderoy Lockhart's greatest achievement?_

 _._

 _._

 _._

 _54) When is Gilderoy Lockhart's birthday, and what would his ideal gift be?_

"Bloody hell", he thought to himself. He gave him answers all right.

 **Q) What is Gilderoy Lockhart's favourite colour?**

A) Gold: the colour of the Galleons he extorts from his students by forcing them to buy his shitty books.

 **Q) What is Gilderoy Lockhart's secret ambition?**

A) To have himself declared Master of the Universe

 _ **Q)**_ **What, in your opinion, is Gilderoy Lockhart's greatest achievement?**

A) That he has so far prevented his ego from exploding.

Half an hour later, Lockhart collected the test papers, and flipped through them.

"Tut, tut", he reprimanded, "hardly any of you knew my favourite colour is lilac. I said so in _Year with the Yeti._ More than a few of you need to re-read _Wanderings with the Werewolves_ as I stated there that my ideal gift would be harmony between magical and non-magical people, although I wouldn't say 'No' to a bottle of Ogden's Finest Fire Whiskey".

The rest of the class was looking on in disbelief.

"Although Hannah Abbott knew my secret ambition was to market my own line of hair care potions… Good girl! In fact, full marks! Who is Hannah Abbott?"

The blonde stood: "I am, Mister Professor Lockhart", she said.

"Excellent, take ten points for Hufflepuff, and congratulations".

The girl beamed with pride and delight.

"What do they see in this fraud?", Draco didn't say that out loud.

Lockhart began the rest of his class by bringing out a covered bird cage from beneath his desk.

"Be warned: it is my job to arm you against the foulest, most dangerous, creatures in existence. You will face your worst fears in this room. Know this: no harm will come to you so long as I'm here. I must ask you to do your best to remain calm, and not to scream".

The whole class held its collective breathe…

"Yes", Lockhart said as he whipped off the cover, "freshly caught Cornish pixies!"

Greg Goyle let out a snort of laughter Lockhart couldn't confuse for a scream of terror.

"Yes, Mr…?"

"Goyle..."

"Pixies aren't dangerous!", Dean Thomas called out, laughing.

"I wouldn't be too sure of that", Lockhart challenged, as he opened the cage door.

The pixies, each about 20cm tall, electric blue with pointed faces and shrill voices like an aviary of upset budgies, surged into the room. Paper, books, ink pots, flew everywhere. Students dived under their desks; some hit the deck. A couple of pixies caught the collar of Neville's robe.

"Why me?", Neville complained, "why always me?", as the pixies carried him aloft, hanging him by his collar from the chandelier.

Several flew through the closed windows, spraying broken glass on the students with window seats. They shredded books and papers, upended the waste baskets, tore paintings off the walls, threw book bags out the broken window.

"Come, come now", Lockhart ordered, "round them up: they're only pixies".

He rolled up his sleeves, and waved his wand: "Peskipiksi Pesternomi!"

Whatever he was trying to do, it had no effect. A pixie grabbed his wand and threw it out the window. Lockhart dived under his own desk, narrowly avoiding being flattened by Neville, whose collar tore away, dropping him from the ceiling.

"Carry on", Lockhart said, as he fled the room.

Draco took out his wand: "Immobilius!", he cast a charm that froze the pixies, stopping the pandemonium. The rest of the class gathered the ones who didn't escape, and put them back in their cage.

"Can you _believe_ that asshole?!", Draco asked.

"He wants us to have hands on experience", Hannah defended. "After all, look at all he's accomplished".

"What he _said_ he accomplished", Draco said, "I'm beginning to have my doubts. He didn't know what he was doing. Was that even a spell?"

 **0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF**

Up in the Ravenclaw Common Room, Ginny took out her unexpected diary, inked a quill, and began to write after turning to page September 1. It was the afternoon break.

 _I did it! I managed to avo…_

"Da fuck?", she said, as she watched the words disappear from the page. New writing appeared.

 _Hello, who's writing in my diary?_

 _Your diary? I just found it._

 _Yes, my diary: Tom Riddle. Who are you?_

 _Ginny. Ginerva Weasley, but everyone calls me Ginny._

 _I don't know that name, can you tell me what year it is?_

 _1992_

 _You're at Hogwarts?_

 _Yes, my first year._

 _What's your House? Mine was Slytherin._

 _Ravenclaw._

 _It's been a long time. I was fifteen in 1954, when I started this diary. Pleased to finally have someone to write to. I didn't know many Ravenclaws when I was there. What were you saying before I interrupted?_

 _Oh that's right: I was going to say I avoided being sorted into Gryffindor. I have four brothers already in that House, and I am sick and tired of all their interference in my life. Just because I'm the youngest, and the only daughter in my family. It's like they all think they have to protect me all the time. I can't do anything I want. Like Quiddich: they won't let me play in their pick-up games. They think it's too dangerous, so it's "Ginny pick some vegetables, or Ginny help your mother, or Ginny run along" I have to practice flying after everyone's gone to bed. It sucks: all the time with the hand-me-down robes, the used books, the second hand… everything. Charlie and Bill, being the oldest, got all the new stuff. I was quite frankly embarrassed, to be sitting up there in front of everybody, wearing these hand-me-down robes. I'm sure they all knew. It's embarrassing, pulling out old used books in every class. Having to use a dented old cauldron in Potions. I've heard how they refer to us: Weasley poor. I'm so ashamed of my family sometimes._

 _I know it can be difficult, your being the youngest and the only girl, but you're pretty lucky. You see, I didn't have any brothers or sisters. My mother died shortly after I was born, and I was raised in an orphanage where I had nothing I could call my own. I still remember how the littlest ones were always caterwauling at all hours of the day and night. The staff did their best, to give us a little something special, but the orphanage didn't have a lot of money either._

 _So sorry for your loss, Tom. What about your father?_

 _Thanks for saying so. He was an irresponsible wastrel. He abandoned Mother when he learned about the pregnancy. I never met him._

 _That's so sad._

 _I get by and Hogwarts saved me. That was my true home… my only home. You'll see: Hogwarts will be your own true home._

 _Still, it's hard. My family is so dirt poor. Our house is a real shithole, compared to Malfoy Manor. I visited the Malfoys last summer… Lucius, Narcissa, and Draco were all so nice, but how could I invite them home? Our threadbare, moth eaten carpets, the cheap, dime store pictures on the walls, a shithole of a house that's almost literally falling down around our ears._

 _So you want better out of live?_

 _Damn straight I do!_

 _That's the first step, and I can help, Ginny._

 _Would you?_

 _Only if you believe in yourself. Do you, Ginny? Think about that before answering._

 _I have to go now, break's almost over._

 _Write again soon._

 _I promise_

Ginny wasn't expecting this new friend, someone who understood, someone who cared, she thought to herself as she made her way to the Great Hall for lunch. How that diary came to write back in the person of a former student who'd been at Hogwarts decades before she was ever born was a thought that never crossed her mind.

 _Beaux Batons_

A week into the term, and Harry received his first owl post. It was Neville writing

 _Dear Harry:_

 _I hope Beaux Batons is working out for you and Hermione. You are definitely missed. Once again, DADA sucks. We have this new professor, Gilderoy Lockhart, you know, the writer…_

Harry cringed at reading this.

… _anyway, the first day he let loose a bunch of pixies and had_ no _idea about what to do. He left it up to us to deal with the messes he made when he deserted us after one of the pixies threw his wand out the window._

 _All he does is rehash the adventures he described in all the books he required – all of them. Never seen anyone so in love with himself. The only thing that's better about him is that he doesn't have Hewhomustnotbenamed's face sticking out the back of his head. Otherwise, he's as useless as Quirrel. I guess we can forget about our OWLS in Defense._

 _We have this Firstie, Colin Creevey, who was sorted into Gryffindor. Annoying little git. He's a muggle-born, and he said his father is a postman. He told us he didn't know the strange things he did, that happened around him, was magic. Not unusual for muggle-born, like Hermione, for example. He's always carrying this camera and bothering everyone for pictures. He said he wants lots of pictures to send to his father. He was sorely disappointed that he missed you. Unfortunately for Draco, Colin somehow found out about your friendship. It's like he's become Draco's shadow. It wouldn't be too much of an exaggeration to say he asks for pictures a dozen times a day. Did you know Draco made Team Slytherin? He's their new Seeker, and Flint is working them pretty hard. Oliver is having a hard time keeping up. Anyway, Flint had the whole team up and on the pitch at the crack of dawn, and, you guessed it, Colin was right there, clicking away. I don't know how he found out, maybe the Twins. I wouldn't put that past them. I don't know how Draco does it, I mean, not strangling him with his camera strap and dropping the body in the lake._

 _Ginny Weasley was sorted into Ravenclaw, and George, Fred, Ron, and Percy are still complaining about that. First Weasley who didn't make Gryffindor in, like, forever._

 _We're all taking Care of Magical Creatures, and Hagrid has us working on a new project: raising Blast Ended Skrewts. You have to be careful, working with them as they have a kind of rocket motor in their tail ends. You can get burned if you're not careful. Hagrid says they'll grow up to be six feet in length. That should be a real challenge, to say the least. So far, I haven't had to crack open my Monstrous Book of Monsters, the class text. Hagrid has his own way of teaching._

 _In a way, it's kind of refreshing, the lack of hidden, forbidden, corridors, the absence of any Dark Lord activity._

 _Anyway, take care._

 _Neville_

Here at Beaux Batons, Care of Magical Creatures was much more theory heavy. Studies of anatomy, biology, and the symptoms of sickness to watch out for, and how to treat the sick animals until a proper veterinary Healer could be contacted. Unlike Hagrid's class, it wasn't all fun and games.

Next morning, a letter arrived from Draco pretty much confirming everything Neville had already said: Slade was out, Draco had made Seeker for Team Slytherin, and Marcus Flint was working the team hard, especially after the last game produced the worst score in 300 years: the final match between Gryffindor and Slytherin. One bit of new news:

 _I want to thank you, thank you, and thank you again for the loan of the Marauder's Map. Without it, I don't know how I'd keep my sanity. If it isn't Lockhart's always wanting to pal up, try to get me to be your surrogate in his quest for celebrity, it's that new Chickendor, Colin Creevey and that damn camera of his. Vector can't seem to be able to do anything about him. He follows me everywhere, and I mean,_ everywhere. _Always begging for another picture. If I ever find out who told them that you and I were friends, it would be worth doing a few years in Azkaban to Cruciatus him a good one. That's what I'm using the map for: to locate, track, and avoid Creevey and Lockhart. Frustrates the hell out of the both of them. They can't figure it out, so there's that bit of payback._

Septima Vector, the Arithmancy Professor, had taken the position of Gryffindor's Head of House to replace Minerva McGonagall.

 _London: Ministry of Magic_

"Albus, outstanding job", Ludo Bagman congratulated, "finding us that tract of land. It's not easy, a stadium and facilities for upwards of 100,000 spectators. I do wonder, aren't the Roberts family muggles?"

"Pure muggles, but they own the land we need. That was part of the deal, they manage the grounds while leasing it to us. Otherwise, there is no way Mr. Roberts would have agreed", Albus explained.

"But what about the Statute of Secrecy? Muggles aren't supposed to know".

"Ahhhhh, but that, you see, is where having the Supreme Mugwump on your side comes in handy. Those who don't need to know, don't know, and those who do can be persuaded to look the other way. All participating Ministries have agreed: the Secrecy Law will not be enforced for this event. There is far, far too much business to be lost here. No, that would never be tolerated. Losing the chance to host the World Cup was more than enough to convince Minister Fudge".

"Then afterwards? Obliviate them?"

"That won't be necessary. I have their word".

"How can you trust these muggles to not say anything?"

"Ahhhhh, but you see, the promise of future use of the land, and the rewards for leasing it to us is most convincing. They won't say a word".

"How is the co-ordination of the Portkeys doing?"

"The schedule has been worked out. All that remains is the preparation before the game is due to begin. We'll stagger arrivals over two weeks or so to prevent any muggles from seeing large groups of people suddenly vanishing into thin air".

"Excellent..."

"One more thing", Albus interrupted.

"About your special project, I agree, the tie-in with the World Cup would go a long way to really putting Hogwarts on the map, but there is a problem. The last one was well over a hundred years ago, and it was a real fiasco".

"1872, to be precise. This time, I propose better management. That is what went wrong back then. It was simply a case of really poor management. Imagine how the revival will help Cornelius' re-election campaign".

"You could propose..."

"I think it best if he heard the plan from you. I have said it many times before, I don't seek credit, as I have more than enough of my own. Cornelius can always count on my support, and if lending him all the credit helps his cause, then so be it".


	24. Order of the Otter: The Beginning

**Order of the Otter: the Beginning**

 _Beaux Batons_

At the mid-afternoon break, Harry had a package waiting for him.

 _Dear Harry:_

 _Hope Beaux Batons is working out for you._

 _I have some news. First of all, I have completed the analysis of the_ _Dark_ _Mark. It is a derivative of the Protean Charm. You understand the implications? Secondly, it is controlled by Parseltongue, never any other language, though the version of it that is cast_ _into the sky is a regular incantation. There is another aspect that I do not want to mention, as it's not necessary for you to know, so you won't betray anything you shouldn't, for the sake of others._ _I am including a recording of the Parselltongue spells that control the Dark Mark. As far as I know, these are accurate._ _As for when and how you decide to use this information, I leave that to your_ _judgment._

 _You will be pleased to know that Amelia Bones' efforts to reopen the Sirius Black case is beginning to pay off. Lucius has been lobbying with Minister Fudge to lend his support. Lucius is a frequent guest at the Ministry, and Fudge does listen to his advice quite often._ _Though there are elements within the Wizengamot that are still quite opposed. I suspect that this effort has the backing of the Chief Warlock. Dumbledore is saying one thing in public, but I suspect he's doing the opposite in private. That's his style, though why he wants Sirius to remain stuck in Azkaban is known only to himself._

 _This isn't important, but I thought you might find it interesting:_

 _TOM MARVOLO RIDDLE_

 _I AM LORD VOLDEMORT_

 _Yes, the most feared name in all of Great Britain is an anagram._

 _Lucius_

Included was another of those impossibly high-tech digital audio players. Lucius had obviously used some sort of audio processing that was beyond the capabilities of any P.C. muggles could buy to recreate Parseltongue.

The Protean Charm was an aspect of what was commonly referred to as "soul magic". This meant that it was impossible for anyone to take that Mark involuntarily, either by force, deception, or while under the Imperious Curse. All those Death Eaters who swore they hadn't volunteered for it were lying. If they had been under the Imperious when taking it, it would have faded away in an hour or two. How the Ministry couldn't figure this out by now escaped Harry completely. Either the Ministry was even more incompetent than anyone suspected, or they didn't know because they didn't _want_ to know.

 **0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF**

"Yannow, Hermione, it wouldn't exactly kill you to get involved in some physical activity. Why don't you at least try out? You did pretty OK playing Keeper last summer".

Harry was signing up for Quiddich try-outs. Even though there were no Houses, there were four Quiddich teams: North, South, East, and West who competed for an end-of-term prize.

"Well, why not? What's the worst that could happen? They say no. It never occurred to me to try out for Gryffindor's team, just wasn't part of my schooling before Hogwarts".

Since team assignments were alphabetical, Harry and Hermione would be on different teams: South for Hermione, and East for Harry. As at Hogwarts, teams were co-ed. Unlike Hogwarts, the guys were not allowed to be Beaters, the opposite from Hogwarts.

Harry suited up, grabbed a broom, and fell in line on the pitch. The team captain, Fleur Delacourt, would make the final decisions as to who was on the team. This try-out was pretty much a repeat of that for Team Slytherin: with the Golden Snitch first, then with the Snitch and the Bludgers. He made it no secret he'd been on Team Slytherin, and was more experienced playing the position. Of course, Harry won the position.

"What position would you like to try-out for Miss...", Veronique Lacombe, captain of Team South asked.

"Granger… Hermione Granger. Keeper".

"Up by the hoops and stop the Quaffles".

She took off, and hovered in front of the three goals.

"Here come the chasers!"

The three chasers passed the Quaffle back and forth as they approached. It was hard, trying to keep track of who had the Quaffle. She misjudged, dodging to the wrong side as the Quaffle sailed unopposed through the far goal. She missed the second one as well.

"You're going to have to do better than that, Granger!"

By now, she was beginning to get the feel of the play. Only one chaser could enter the scoring area, and this time, she didn't fall for the fake-out. She shot up and intercepted the third Quaffle at the tallest, center hoop. She caught the next at the lower, left hoop, and the next. The team captain blew her whistle, signalling the end of the try-out.

Hermione won a position as alternate Keeper. That meant she would be warming a bench until she needed to replace the starting Keeper. It did mean, however, that there was a possibility she would get her chance. Her only worry was how much study time practice would take up.

 _Hogwarts: Ravenclaw Common Room_

Ginny was at a writing table, once again. Mellissa Cunningham, another Firstie stepped over to see…

"Get away from me!", Ginny said as she covered up her diary. "Are you snooping on me?!", she accused.

"Calm down, will you? I was just asking if you wanted to join us for some Exploding Snaps".

"No, I _don't_ want to join you for Exploding Snaps. _Just leave me alone!_ ", she screamed at her. The rest of the Ravenclaws suddenly fell silent.

"You know, Weasley, you should learn how to be a bit more sociable. That's all you do, day after day, write in that damn book".

"How about you mind your own damn business, and I'll mind mine. It's _personal!"_.

"Look, I don't care what secret loves or whatever other crap you write in there Waasley. It's become quite the obsession and I don't think you said more than a dozen words to your house mates. You aren't the only resident of Ravenclaw Tower, yannow".

"Fuck off".

"Fine".

Ginny didn't need her. Ginny didn't need anyone. She had all the friends she needed in Tom Riddle.

 **0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF**

Everyone had gathered around a notice board.

"They're starting a dueling club!", Justin Finch-Fletchley called out.

"Looks like it could be fun", Tom said.

"Wonder who's organizing it?", Angelina asked.

"Has to be Flitwick, he was a champion duelist before he became a Professor", someone answered.

"You will find out at 8:00", McGonagall told them, "now off with you, you don't want to miss it by being in detention for being late to class".

At 8:00, there was a large gathering in the Great Hall. This time, the tables gone, and a large stage occupied the far wall. Everyone was expecting Flitwick. They got Lockhart. Groans swept through the assembled prospective duelists. He was wearing dress robes of deep plum. Snape, in his usual black robes, was joining him on stage. Everyone was asking themselves the same question: how did he manage to enlist Snape for this?

This was Lockhart's attempt to revive his career as a Hogwarts Professor after the fiasco with the Cornish pixies. There were no more critters brought to class. Every following class involved readings from one of his books. He dragooned students, frequently Draco, to re-enact the incidents, such as with the werewolf, or the Bandon Banshee. Lockhart acted as director, making sure each actor performed his part to his satisfaction. As for learning actual defense, Lockhart was as useless as Quirrel.

"Can everyone see me?", he called out. "Can everyone hear me? Excellent! Head Mistress McGonagall has agreed to allow me to organize this club for the purpose of lessons in defense. I have much experience in the techniques of defense and dueling, see my published works for details.

"Professor Snape has agreed to lend his assistance, as he has had some small measure of experience with dueling. Have no fear: you shall still have your Potions Master after I get through with him.

"Are you ready, Professor?"

They took their positions, facing each other.

"First we bow", Lockhart bowed deeply before his adversary. Snape gave a nod of the head.

"Wands up…

"As you can see, we're holding our wands in the traditional ready position". Both had wands vertical.

"On the count of three, we will cast. We won't be looking to kill, of course.

"One… two… three!"

Both raised their wands over their heads. Snape was faster on the draw:

"Expelliarmus!", he fired off the spell with a good deal of vigour. The scarlet burst of light took Lockhart off his feet, throwing him off the stage and into the wall. He slid to the floor. He recovered quickly, getting to his feet, and back on the stage.

"That was the Disarming Charm", Lockhart explained. "As you can see, I have lost my wand… Oh, Thank you, Hannah", as he took the wand from her. "I did that to show you how the Expelliarmus works. It's a good, non-lethal defense maneuver.

"Of course, it was obvious what you were about to do", he said to Snape. "Had I wanted to, I could have easily stopped you".

Snape glared at Lockhart with murder in his eyes.

"Enough demonstrations", Lockhart called out. "I'm going to come amongst you to pair you off. If you'll assist?", he said to Snape.

"Mr. Malfoy", Snape selected Draco

"How about you?", Lockhart grabbed Neville.

"Are you sure? Mr. Longbottom causes disasters every time he lifts a wand", Snape said.

"I'll show you who's a Chickendore or not!", Neville defied his least favourite teacher at Hogwarts, or any other school he ever attended.

"Very well, you were warned".

Draco and Neville squared off, bowed: "One… two… three!"

Draco's spell caught Neville, nearly dropping him.

"Rictusempra!", Neville fired back. The silver burst was a direct hit. Draco doubled over, wheezing. This was the Tickling Charm. Neville figured it wouldn't be sporting to hit him again while during the uncontrollable laughter. He figured wrong.

"Tarantallegra!", Draco managed to wheeze out, causing Neville to dance involuntarily.

"I said disarming only!", Lockhart complained. Nobody was listening, so Snape took charge.

"Finite incantatum", Snape cast the neutralizing charm. Neville stopped dancing and Draco stopped laughing. A green haze hung in the air.

Snape didn't think Neville had it in him. He wasn't aware that he'd been taking on going lessons with Lupin.

Justin and Earnie were on the floor, panting. Fiona Weller, a big Hufflepuff girl had Luna in a headlock, who was whimpering in pain, their wands forgotten on the floor. Fred and George were trying to separate them.

"Dear, dear", Lockhart said as he surveyed the after math of the various duels.

"Up you go, Mr. MacMillan…

"Careful there, Miss Fawcett…

"Just pinch it hard; it'll stop bleeding in a few seconds, Mr. Boot..."

"I think it would be better if I showed you how to block unfriendly spells", Lockhart was trying to salvage what remained of his dueling club. "How about Longbottom and Finch-Fletchley?"

"How about Malfoy and Weasley instead?", Snape counter proposed.

Draco and Fred took to the stage. Snape was saying something to Draco, while Lockhart was showing Fred some sort of wiggly motion with his wand; "When Draco points his wand at you, you do this"

Lockhart dropped his wand: "My wand got a little over excited", Lockhart made yet another excuse.

"Just do what I did", he encouraged.

"What? Drop my wand?", Fred said sarcastically.

Lockhart didn't hear: "Three… two… one!"

"Serpensortia!", Draco called out the spell his favourite Professor just told him.

The end of his wand seemed to explode, and a large, black snake shot out to land with a thud in between the duelists. It reared, looked to strike Fred…

"Don't move, Weasley", Snape said. "I'll get rid of it..."

"Allow me!", Lockhart called out. Before Snape could act, Lockhart waved his wand. However, the snake didn't go away. Instead, it flew up about three or four meters, only to land hard. If it had been angry before…

The snake looked to be about to strike the one closest to him: Justin, who cringed from the long, sharp fangs of the hissing snake. Just in time, Snape disappeared the serpent in a puff of black smoke.

Thus ended the first – and final – meeting of the Dueling Club.

 _Beaux Batons_

Transfiguration this year was a bit more challenging. This year, the lessons involved the transfiguration of animate objects: animals to inanimate objects, and objects to animals.

The first lesson of this type was to transfigure beetles into buttons. These were green iridescent beetles of some species, Harry didn't know. The most difficult part of the assignment was that the damn things wouldn't stay still. Prodded by a wand, and they skittered away.

As in McGonagall's class, it was a race between Hermione and Harry to see who succeeded first. Last year, it had been Harry.

"I did it!", Hermione called out.

"Well done, Miss Granger".

"I got mine!", Harry called out a few minutes later.

"Nice work, Mr. Potter".

 _Hogwarts: Transfigurations, Mid November_

"Miss Weasley", the new Transfigurations teacher, Vince Rheimann, called out, "do try to pay attention"

"Can't...", Ginny put her head on the desk. She had been looking unusually pale for a couple of weeks.

"Lisa, would you see Miss Weasley to the infirmary?"

"Come on", she tried.

"Uhhhhhh...", was all she got. She looked to the instructor, shrugging her shoulders.

Vince pulled out his wand: "Expecto patronum", he sent his patronus, a chipmunk, to deliver his message.

"Class, may I have your attention?", he called out.

Madam Pomphrey's assistant arrived. She had to conjure a stretcher and levitate Ginny to the infirmary.

Ginny came to only to look up at a blank ceiling. Someone had undressed her as she was wearing just a flimsy gown. She heard voices in the distance…

"Can't you check it again?"

"I've checked three times already. It will be a miracle if she makes it to Christmas. Ginny is dying and I have no idea why..."

"But... she's just... eleven!"

"Here, drink this… A spot of nettle wine. I need you to put on your happy face and take care of our patient while I'm absent. I will Floo to the Weasleys, contact Arthur, they don't need to hear about this from an owl. I expect they'll be wanting to take her home. Now see to the patient..."

Ginny faked being unconscious, but listened carefully. When the nurse was out of the ward. Ginny struggled out of the bed, and did her best to steady herself. She slipped from behind the privacy curtain, past the unoccupied beds silently on bare feet. She crawled on hands and knees under the window. She made her way to the dungeons.

 _The Burrow_

Poppy Pomphrey stepped from the kitchen fire in a whirl of emerald flame. Molly was in the sitting room. She looked up with glistening eyes.

"It's our Ginny, isn't it?" Pomphrey wondered how she knew until she followed Molly's gaze to the mantle "clock". One hand, Ginerva, was pointing to "Mortal Danger" on the dial.

Arthur soon followed: "Molly?", he called out.

"Please sit down..."

"Madam Pomphrey..."

"I'm afraid I have some bad news..."

 _Hogwarts: Slytherin Common Room_

"I need to see Draco...", she said to the first Slytherin she saw.

"What're you doing down here? Get the hell out of here!"

"Please… I need to see Draco… PLEASE!"

"Al-right", the Snake reluctantly agreed.

"Ginny?", Draco asked. She was sitting on the stone floor by the entrance to the Common Room, legs pulled up, knees under her chin. "C'mon", he helped her up and down the long passage that went under the lake.

"Malfoy! Get her out of here! You know the rules: _no one_ but Slytherins!"

Draco ignored whoever that was, led her to a love seat. She curled up, face buried in his robes, and wept…

"Ginny? What is it?"

"If you're just gonna stand around", Draco ordered, "at least make yourselves useful and get me a glass of water".

Luna produced a large glass of water.

"Here, drink this. And tell me all about it".

She took a few sips.

"Just take a deep breathe, and tell me what's wrong".

"I don't know who to turn to… Lllll...ockhart's useless… The Pro…Pro...Professor's gone… Hhhh...arry said I could trust you..."

"I always said it's best to not think about it, and to just say it", Draco encouraged.

"I was in Madam's infirmary… They didn't know I overheard… Madam said I won't..." Ginny swallowed hard, "… won't live to see Chchchch...ristmas..." Ginny broke down in more sobs.

"Fuck're all of you gawkin' at!", Draco snapped at the crowd gathered around. All Draco could do was hug her, let her cry it out.

They couldn't believe what they were hearing. They couldn't believe it were possible – anyone their age could be dying. Most of these kids had no more experience with loss than a pet, certainly not a parent, brother, or sister.

"We should go", Luna said, and got no argument.

"Ginny, Ginny, Ginny..."

"Madam said she didn't know why… but I do… I found this diary… I wrote in it and Tom wrote back… he was so nice..."

"Dobby!", Draco called out. He couldn't help admire: only a true Ravenclaw could figure it out.

"Master call Dobby?"

"Ginny, where? Where is this diary?"

"My trunk"

"Go to Ravenclaw Tower, girls' dorm, and bring me Ginny's diary"

"Right away, Master", Dobby popped out.

He was back in under a minute.

"Is this the one?", he asked. Ginny nodded wordlessly.

He flipped through the pages: "There's nothing here?"

"I wrote, and Tom wrote back. He seemed so nice… that's when… things began to happen..."

"What things?"

"I found feathers on my robe; I didn't know where they came from. Then Hagrid said someone killed all his roosters, broke their necks… Then I found myself in this out of order loo that's on the second floor. A girl ghost..."

"Moanin' Myrtle?"

"I suppose… she asked what I thought I was doing in her bathroom, said something about a chamber… I had no memory of going there… or why..."

That's when Draco took a closer look at the diary: "T M Riddle"

"Merlin's beard", he gasped at seeing that name.

"What is it?"

"Let's get you back to Madam Pomphrey. She must be worried sick about you by now. Don't worry about a thing, Ginny. I will send for Harry. He knows someone who can help you, but, for now, you will have to trust me, understand?"

"I trust you"

Ginny made it about half way out of the dungeons, and Draco had to carry her the rest of the way.

"Thank Merlin we found you!", it was Pomphrey and her assistant coming down the hall.

"I found her wandering the halls", Draco said.

"Thank you so much Mr. Malfoy…

"Come, Ginny, your parents are waiting"

Draco dashed back towards the dungeons.

"Dobby, I need you to go to Beaux Batons and bring Harry here. Don't take 'No' for an answer, and be quick about it".

"Right away, Master, Dobby shall not fail!"

About twenty minutes later, Dobby reappeared with Harry.

"Da fuck!", he said when he saw where he was. "Right out of Arithmancy! In the middle of the class!"

"Harry, sit down..."

He smoothed his dress, as this had become a habit, and sat down as Draco began, explaining everything he heard from Ginny. He showed Harry Ginny's diary.

"It never ends… it never _fucking_ ends… I'm never gonna be rid of this place, am I?"

"What do we do?", Draco asked.

"Let me think..."

"OK, here's what we do", Harry explained, "first, we need to go to the Burrow… you're _sure_ Ginny's there?"

"That's what Pomphrey said: her parents were waiting".

"Dobby", Harry called the house elf over. "I need you to go to Lucius' holt and bring him to the Burrow. Don't apparate inside with him, but wait outside until I call for you".

"Do it", Draco confirmed. Dobby popped out.

Harry took a pinch of Floo Powder from the tin on the mantle.

"The Burrow!", he called out into the emerald flames. Harry and Draco stepped through, and into Molly's kitchen. Most of the Weasleys had already arrived. Molly came to see if it were Bill or Charles…

"Miss...", she began, then recognized who it was.

" _HOWDAREYOUCOMEINTOOURHOMEANDATATIMELIKETHIS!_

"It's all _your_ fault Potter, if you hadn't gotten the Professor fired..."

He whipped out his special wand: "Silencio", he cast the silencing charm.

He whirled around to face Arthur, who was going for his wand: "If you want to save Ginny's life, you, all of you, will sit down and _shut up._.."

"Potter, what makes you think you know better that Madam Pomphrey?", Percy objected.

"Madam Pomphrey didn't know about this...", Harry held up the diary. "Ever since the first day, Ginny has been writing in this diary. I have no idea what she said as all the pages are blank". He riffled through the blank pages. "She said she was writing to her friend, Tom..."

"That's right", Draco confirmed, "she said she writes, the words disappear, and new ones appear..."

"So...", Percy began.

"Don't interrupt me again", Harry warned.

"There is one thing written here", Harry explained: "'This diary belongs to: T M Riddle'. That would be Tom Marvolo Riddle".

Molly had her hand up.

"Finite incantatum", Harry neutralized the Silencing Charm

"We don't know anyone by that name", Molly said.

"Don't you?", Harry drew in fiery red letters with his wand: TOM MARVOLO RIDDLE. They floated in mid-air.

With a wave of his wand, the letters rearranged themselves: I AM LORD VOLDEMORT

There were gasps of shock.

"Yes, Ginny has been pen pals with Voldemort himself".

"But what can we do?", Arthur asked.

"What you are about to see, you, _all of you,_ must not mention to _anyone._ Arthur, Percy: that means at the Ministry. Fred, George, and especially you Ron: that means _no_ gossip around Gryffindor. Molly, you especially, _not a single word_ to Dumbledore".

Harry stepped over to the front door: "You can come in now".

They weren't expecting a house elf with a long pointy nose in a crude poncho made from an old pillow case, and a badger-like critter on all fours.

"What's that animal..."

"That animal has a name: Lucius Lutra – pleased to make your acquaintances".

They watched, speechless, and Lucius pulled a desktop, monitor, and something else from his bottomless pack. He pulled out a power supply, plugged everything in, and booted the computer. It should not have worked at all here in a magical home, filled with magi.

"Let's have it", he requested of Harry.

He handed over the diary. Lucius pressed a button on a peripheral and a tray slid out. He put the diary on the tray, and it retracted back into the device. Green LEDs flashed a few times.

The program loaded, and symbols of Otterish filled the screen.

"This is bad… very, very bad… Whatever this thing is, it's been feeding on Ginny's life force, depleting it. She grows weaker, and this simulation of Voldemort grows stronger. Enough life force, and it's very possible Voldemort, or the version of him from his diary, will materialize, and Ginny will die… It has to be destroyed ASAP".

Lucius unloaded the diary from the tray and fetched a ball point from his pack. He turned to the page for today's date and wrote:

 _I'm onto you. I know who you are and what you've been doing._

The words faded from the page, and a new message appeared.

 _You're not Ginny? Then who are you?_

 _Your worst nightmare. Leave my friend Ginny alone. Return to her the life force you've stolen from her._

 _For months, I've had to put up with that stupid girl and her stupid complaints about second hand robes and books, how ashamed she was of that hovel she calls a home. She has it a damn sight better than I ever did at her age, and the little bitch showed no appreciation for having a home and family. Then there were her fears that Harry Potter – the Great Harry Potter who defeated the greatest wizard and sorcerer in three centuries by a stroke of luck might not like her. I had to put up with all this bullshit, day after day, week after week, as she poured out her soul. Then I began to pour out my soul into her. Got her to get rid of the roosters, make her open the Chamber of Secrets, and she would have if that damned Myrtle Warren hadn't interfered. She deserved to die and live in a shitter for eternity the way she nearly ruined my plans. Fortunately, I put all the blame on that big lummox, Rubius Hagrid, the half breed giant._

 _Ginny Weasley is g_64 times the human you are, you piece of shit. Do one decent thing: give back what you've taken._

 _No. You're too late (Ha! Ha!) Ginny will die and I will live! She should feel grateful that I, Lord Voldemort, allowed her to play her part in my rise to power!_

 _Go fuck yourself_

Lucius took Voldemort's diary to the kitchen fire and threw it in. They waited. Nothing happened. Arthur used a poker to pull it out, but it wasn't even warm, even fresh from the fire. They tried tearing out the pages; they wouldn't tear. Lucius tried a Confringo, but the diary just shot up to the ceiling and dropped unharmed.

"What do we do now? Ginny?"

"There is one thing, but it's _highly_ dangerous".

Lucius looked out at the pastures and gardens: "It just might cost you your garden", he warned.

"Do it"

Lucius took the diary to the largest patch of bare earth he could find.

"I warn you, stand well back, and don't interfere no matter what you see.

"Fiend Fyre!", he cast the spell that produced the hard to control, unquenchable, fiend fyre.

It took on the appearance of a very ugly otter. One with ridges down its back, horns on its head, malevolent eyes blazing with yellow fire, long fangs dripping blood. As it attacked the diary sinking its fangs into the cover, black liquid, like ink, poured from it. They thought they heard a ghostly scream, long, drawn out and filled with torment. Finally it crumbled to ash.

"No! Stand back!", Lucius called out. The fiery otter was turning on its creator. He was able to get it under control, and terminated, but at the price of singed whiskers. Arthur put out some burning foliage with the Aguamente charm.

There was a sound of feet on the stairs. Ginny in her Pjs, was joining the rest of the family. The hand on the mantle "clock" with Ginny's name on it pointed to "Safe at Home".

Molly swept her daughter is a hug like a mother bear: "Ginny, you're alright", as she laughed and cried at the same time. Arthur made it a three-way hug.

"I… I… I'm so stupid and selfish… the things I was thinking..."

Molly separated, and looked at her on her level: "No, Ginny, you're my smart, bright Ravenclaw", she hugged Ginny again.

Her brothers gathered around:

"Glad to have you back..."

"You're not leaving us that easily..."

"We aren't letting you get away..."

"Not now; not ever..."

Harry, Lucius, and Draco were standing off to one side. Dobby had vanished, needed elsewhere.

"Come here", Molly invited them to join in on their group hug-fest.

"You did it! You did it!", Ginny said. "Just like you promised!"

"You, all of you, will always have a home here with us", Arthur said. "If I live a thousand years, it won't be enough to express our gratitude".

"I don't know who, what, you are and I don't care", Molly said, "you gave us back our Ginny and that's all I need to know"

"We should be getting back", Draco said.

"Absolutely not! I will not hear of it!", Molly announced. "You _will_ stay for dinner. We have _so much_ to celebrate".

"Don't even try...", Fred said.

"...No fighting it when she goes full mother-mode", George finished.

Harry hoped he could get an excuse note of some sort, Madam Maxime was sure to be pist by whatever time he made it back to Beaux Batons.


	25. Revealed: Peter Pettigrew

**Revealed: Peter Pettigrew**

"No that is out of the question", Harry objected apologetically. "Dobby snatched me right out of class, and by now Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia must know. They're gonna be worried sick".

"He's right", Arthur agreed, "they have to know".

"We could Floo over..."

"Except we're not connected to the Floo Network: no flue, electric heat and heat pump only", Harry explained.

"Then we apparate instead", Molly proposed.

"That will be fine, just so long as we let my step parents know I'm OK".

Molly apparated Harry to 4 Privet Dr.

"Harry!", Vernon came to see. _"Whothehellareyouwhatdidyoudo?!_ "

"You remember Molly Weasley?", Harry said. "You met the Weasleys on the platform"

"Right out of the classroom!", Vernon was raging. "I thought we were done with this nonsense! How is such a thing possible? _How is it allowed?!_ We had _no idea_ whether or not it was Death Eaters like last summer! Your mother is worried _sick_ about you!"

"If you'll just calm down for a minute...", Harry started.

"No, I _will not_ calm down Young Man!"

They had no choice but to let the storm blow over.

"It was an emergency", Harry was finally able to get in a word.

"What emergency?"

"A young girl's life was at stake"

"Your son helped save my Ginny's life", Molly was able to explain.

Finally, the whole story came out, how Draco had sent for Harry, how Lucius figured out the nature of Ginny's diary, how Voldemort intended to sacrifice Ginny's life to restore his own. That Fiend Fyre could destroy it, restoring Ginny's life force.

"I still don't like the idea that Harry can just be snatched out of that school. I don't like the idea that these problems are left to kid wizards to solve. It shouldn't be their responsibility. What if it isn't for the sake of anything good next time?"

"How would it be any different at a muggle school?", Harry asked. "They don't have wards and Perimeters. How is anything 100% safe? For every lock, there's a pick, isn't there?"

"Please, you and your wife, come have dinner with us", Molly invited. "It's our way to make it up to you, for all your worry about Harry".

Vernon, Petunia, and Harry apparated with Molly directly to the Burrow, though Vernon didn't like the idea. It was too far away to take the SUV on such short notice.

Back at the Burrow, she made the introductions. Bill and Charlie had both arrived, relieved to learn it was a false alarm. Molly had all her kids, except Ginny, working frantically to whip up a good, country dinner in celebration, in honor of Lucius, Harry, and Draco.

Ham and turkey, potatoes and veggies from the garden, dressing and gravy a good, basic country dinner, served fashionably late given the short notice. Vernon realized these Weasleys didn't have much, but were generous to a fault with what they did have. Molly insisted that her guests have second and third helpings. Along with the Malfoys, the Dursleys had a standing invitation to visit any time. They didn't leave the Burrow until after 2:00AM, before Vernon, Petunia, and Harry could pull themselves away. Harry thought to himself how ironic the whole situation was. He expected that the next outsider to meet Lucius Lutra would be Hermione, not a family he barely knew. Ron was still an asshole, and he still didn't approve of Fred's and George's pranks.

The next morning, Molly took Ginny to St Mungos for a check up. She got a clean bill of health.

 _London: Ministry of Magic_

"State your name for the record", John Dawlish the Auror requested.

"Ginerva Weasley"

"Let the record show that Ginerva Weasley's parents, Arthur and Molly Weasley are present".

This being taken down by a floating, self-inking quill on a steno pad.

"Tell us how you came to be in the possession of a dark artifact: a diary from Lord Voldemort?"

"I really don't know".

"When did you first notice this diary?"

"When I got home from school shopping in Diagon Alley. I put everything in my cauldron for easier carrying, you see. When I was unpacking everything, that's when I found it. An old book that was from a muggle".

"How did you know that?"

"There was a stamp on the back cover saying it came from some store on Vauxhall Rd, and that's in London, not Diagon Alley".

"Do you remember which store?"

"No"

"That's too bad..."

"I highly doubt it's still there", Ginny explained, "it was a very old book".

"What happened prior to your discovering the diary?"

"Ummmmm… nothing really… oh wait: someone tripped me just outside Flourish and Blotts".

"Did you see who?"

"No, he was wearing a black robe and I didn't see his face. Some other passer-by stopped to help. He gathered all my stuff, and helped me up".

"Could you recognize this individual if you saw him again?"

"Maybe"

"Look through these pictures and tell me if you recognize anyone".

"No, not him… No, no, no…"

"Take your time", Dawlish reminded.

"Maybe this guy?", she said as she set aside that photo… "Oh wait! _This_ is the one"

"Are you sure?"

"As sure as I can be", she showed it to her mother.

"Yes", Molly confirmed, "he's the one who helped Ginny".

"Let the record show Miss Weasley and her mother have identified photograph #42078 as a possible suspect. I think that will be all for today".

"Who was it?", Molly and Ginny asked.

"For now, no names. It could compromise our investigation. If we need you for anything, we will contact you"

Dawlish recognized who it was: Parkinson, Edmond Parkinson. He knew who this was. Parkinson was one of those who got off after the Dark Lord fell, whose gold and political connections turned many heads the other way, sparing him Azkaban. By now, it was too late, too much embarrassment of current politicians and officials should he be indicted, charged with a crime. He highly doubted that he would be stupid enough to leave behind incriminating evidence. Why Ginny Weasley? He probably had no reason other than she was the first Firstie he'd selected. The why was the more important question. That diary was over forty years old, that was how long it had been out there, in Death Eater hands. Why now?

"One other thing, Miss Weasley", Dawlish asked, "and we're done here. Why did you go to see Mr Malfoy? Why didn't you confide in Madam Pomphrey?"

"I didn't have a chance. I'd just regained consciousness, and she was saying she was going to Floo to the Burrow".

"Then why not her assistant? Why not Professor Flitwick? Or Headmistress McGonagall?"

"I heard Madam Pomphrey saying she didn't know what was wrong with me. Professor Flitwick doesn't have any training in medicine, and he's a Charms teacher, not Dark Arts, and Lockhart is a boob".

"Yet you were sure enough to trust a fellow student, Mr. Malfoy?"

"Harry said..."

"You're referring to Harry Potter?"

"Yes, Harry said I could trust Draco if I ever had a problem, I could talk to him and he would know what to do".

"By that you mean contact Mr. Potter?"

"I suppose so; that's what he did. He came to the Burrow shortly after my parents Flooed me home".

"And what made you think Potter, a student like yourself, could do for you what your Professors, your Healer, and your Head of House couldn't?"

"Don't know; don't care. He did it, saved me from Riddle's diary".

"I see… we're done here: you can go".

Harry was likewise being given the once-over, this time by Amelia Bones herself. He was able to ditch the Beaux Batons uniform for muggle attire.

"Mr. Potter, you keep turning up and up and up..."

"It's not my idea..."

"How is it that you came to be at Hogwarts?"

Harry explained about Ginny.

"My colleague is interviewing her as we speak", Amelia informed him. "Why would she go to Draco Malfoy? As I understand it, Miss Weasley was sorted into Ravenclaw".

"Before I left for France, I told everyone I knew was staying at Hogwarts that they could trust Draco if they needed help. In case you weren't aware, the new DADA prof, Gilderoy Lockhart, is as useless as Quirrel. I don't see how anyone will ever get their OWL in Defense".

"You never took Mr Lockhart's class, so how would you know he couldn't solve Miss Weasley's problems with that diary?"

"Gilderoy Lockhart is known as an adventure writer who plays fast and loose with the truth. Look at what he wrote about me, for example. Since when has he ever been known as any sort of expert on the Dark Arts? I heard all about the pixies he released in the classroom, and he cast a nonsense spell that did nothing. He left it to the students to deal with. That's why Ginny in her desperation turned to Draco".

"I understand that Hogwarts has long had a problem filling the Defense professorship. It's said there's a jinx on the position that inevitably leads to the firing and/or resignation of Defense professors, and few are willing to take the position. That leads me to my second question: what makes you think you can take on the Dark Lord when you have a school filled with magi whose experience is far beyond yours? Isn't that a bit presumptuous on your part?"

"You'll have to ask Madam Pomphrey about that. She did her best, but she didn't bother to consult her colleagues on the faculty, did she? She didn't call in the Aurors, did she? Maybe if Ginny had failed to sneak out, who knows? Maybe Mr and Mrs Weasley may have contacted the Ministry? They didn't, that's how I got involved. Believe me, even though I like Ginny, I would have preferred it had the matter been resolved, and I never heard a word about it".

"That still doesn't explain how a kid magician-in-training who is still years away from attaining his first OWL can be certain enough to even suggest he should be called upon in the first place".

"I had a reason to believe that Voldemort wasn't done after he tried to reincarnate with Quirrel's help. I believe his activities are centering around Hogwarts".

"And just how do you know that?"

"I just do".

"That isn't an answer, Mr Potter".

"I believe Voldemort is coming back to finish what he started. How would Voldemort know I wasn't there? Wherever he goes, whatever he is when he's not possessing profs, how could he know I went to Beaux Batons?"

"All the more reason for you to put as much distance between yourself and Hogwarts as you can. What do you know that others don't, Mr. Potter?"

"What others don't know is that I have a connection with Voldemort. The night he murdered my parents, the night he gave me this", Harry showed his famous scar. "A connection was made. I can sense his presence; I can sense when he's on the move. Sometimes, it's just a tingle, at others, the pain is as excruciating as a migraine. That's how I figured out Quirrel was possessed: every time I got close to him, my scar acted up. That's my advantage".

"You know this, how?"

"I figured it out last year, when we discovered Voldemort's face plastered on the back of Quirrel's head. You were there".

"Yes, I was there. That wasn't the only thing I saw: I saw you disregard the aurors' orders that you not leave the Common Room. I saw that you got extremely lucky with Quirrel. If it isn't arrogance that leads you to believe you can keep defeating the Dark Lord, then it's something else, and I damn sure want to know what that is".

"I've told you as much as I can".

"I highly doubt that. As for the diary, what led you to believe it had anything to do with Voldemort?"

"The inside cover had the name, T M Riddle, written on it – Tom Marvolo Riddle. Here, let me show you..."

Bones handed him a quill and parchment. Harry showed her the anagram.

"I also wrote in it myself, and Voldemort wrote back, admitted it: the diary was possessed by his sixteen year old self, and that he intended for Ginny to die so he could materialize himself from its pages. I don't know why he said so… maybe because I knew already, or because he got over confident, thinking I wouldn't figure out how to destroy it. He figured wrong".

"How did you manage to destroy it?"

"Trial and error: I tried burning it in fire, then all the usual spells, but nothing worked, so I tried Fiend Fyre as a last resort. That got the job done".

"Where did you learn that spell?"

"Saw it in a book at Hogwarts, from the Restricted Section. I was doing some research Snape assigned for Potions, and came across a description of it".

"That was another fortunate coincidence, I suppose?"

"Yes, Ma'am"

"You seem to have more than your fair share, don't you? I've told you before: I don't like coincidences".

"They do happen".

"Do you know what a Horcrux is?"

"No, Ma'am, never heard the word till now".

"It's any object to which one attaches a piece of his soul for the purpose of preventing it from separating from the material world. I a word, it prevents one from dying. The only known way to destroy one is Fiend Fyre, and you just happen to know about that spell which is never taught to any student at Hogwarts, or anywhere else I know of, with the possible exception of the Durmstrang Institute. Madam Maxime assures me that you didn't learn it at Beaux Batons. Are you beginning to appreciate my dilemma here?"

"Ma'am?"

"You just didn't happen to stumble across the one spell that can destroy a Horcrux while you were goofing off in the Restricted Section. You didn't do this on your own. You're receiving outside help, and I want to know from whom".

"No comment"

"Was it Lucius Malfoy?".

"No comment".

"That's your last word?"

"For now, yes, since I'm not under arrest, may I go?"

"One more thing, if you please", Madam Bones said, "what's this about a 'Chamber of Secrets'?"

"I have no idea, other than it has something to do with a former student, Moanin' Myrtle, and a second floor loo at Hogwarts. Ginny mentioned Voldemort wanted her to open it, and that Myrtle's ghost stopped her. That's all I know".

"Then it wasn't opened?"

"Not to my knowledge. Why, is it important?"

"Not so far as it's yet something else from Hogwarts to keep me up at night", Amelia sighed.

"May I go now?"

"For now".

 _Hogwarts_

"Is is with extreme pleasure we celebrate Ginny Weasley's return to the Hogwarts family", McGonagall gave her speech in the Great Hall. "Miss Weasley has had to deal with the malign influence of a very dark object that was given to her without our knowledge. If you noticed she hasn't quite been herself these past few weeks, now you know why. I assure you, she is perfectly fine and unaffected by the cursed object".

At Draco's insistence, McGonagall left his name out of it, for all the good it did him. She also avoided any mention of Voldemort. Draco had enough enemies amoung the Death Eater scions. There were at least a dozen people in the Common Room when Draco brought Ginny there, who heard everything she said. The rumour mill got to work immediately. For those who hadn't heard all about it from the Slytherins, Peeves made sure everyone knew:

 _Snow and ice make the trees glisten  
_ _You can hear the sleigh bells jingle if you listen  
_ _From Santa, all that poor Ginny got  
_ _Was a grave in the family plot_

He regaled everyone in the Great Hall with that ditty the very next morning.

"Hiya, Draco!", Draco cringed upon hearing that. He was outside crossing the commons.

"'Lo, Colin", he said before he looked.

Colin Creevey was a mouse of a boy with a high, squeaky voice. Dark brown hair, and probably didn't tip 100 on a scale. He was shy unless he was behind his ever present, muggle camera. Did this guy _ever_ run out of film? If Draco's involvement with the Boy Who Lived made him a target before, that was nothing compared to his rescue of Ginny Weasley.

"How about a picture? One of the guys was telling me I could develop the film in a special potion, and that the pictures will move! How about it? You can sign it!"

"Someone's giving out signed photos?", Draco dreaded that voice just as much.

Lockhart was sweeping across the commons, dress robes a-flutter. He wrapped an arm around Draco's shoulder, firmly welding the unfortunate Slytherin to his side.

"Mr. Creevey can take a double portrait, and we'll both sign it!", Lockhart told him.

"That would be great!", Colin fumbled with his camera, and took several shots.

"Thanks guys!"

"Draco, Draco, Draco", Lockhart started, "Draco, you got a taste… you got the _bug._ Fame is an intoxicating thing, I know. You want more. I understand. I know there will come a day when you're famous like me, and you'll find it convenient to always have signed photos handy. But, frankly, you're not there yet. I know what you're thinking: 'That's easy for him to say, he's already got the fame and celebrity', but, hard as it is to believe, I was once twelve, and a nobody. Still, signed photos at your age looks a tad… big-headed. You can thank me for saving you by offering to pose for Mr Creevey, that way, it'll look like he was photographing me and you just happened to be there".

Draco had become a virtual prisoner doing time in the Common Room. To keep Lucius Lutra's involvement out of the whole incident, Draco had to take all the credit. He had Dobby bring him meals, he made sure to consult the Marauder's Map to find the most circuitous paths to get to class, paths that avoided Colin and Lockhart, but that was becoming more and more difficult. The annoying shutter bug just would not give up, especially after some other Chickendor had told him how to make moving pictures; Lockhart had appointed himself a surrogate father-figure always wanting to give his unwanted advice on how Draco should handle his fame for rescuing Ginny, and how he could cultivate celebrity for that. He was a bit envious of Harry, whose name had not come up.

One morning, he was consulting the Marauder's Map to plan his next trip to the first class of the day before leaving his dorm.

" _Fuck!_ Not again! Weasel King, what the fuck have you done this time?!", he asked no one but himself.

There, on the map of the dorms of Gryffindor, were two names, and one dot: Ronald Weasley and Peter Pettigrew. As he watched, the dots separated, so this wasn't another case of possession, to his relief. The Ronald Weasley dot moved out of the dorm, to the Common Room. The Peter Pettigrew dot stayed where it was. He wondered how this was possible, as he didn't know any Peter Pettigrew as a student. Then he recalled: Harry had mentioned a Peter Pettigrew. It had something to do with Sirius Black.

 _London: Ministry of Magic_

"Albus", Amelia Bones greeted.

"Madam Bones, to what do I owe the pleasure of your company?", Dumbledore asked.

"What can you tell me about the Chamber of Secrets?"

"I assume you're looking into more detail than the legend?"

The legend of the Chamber is that it was a parting gift from Salazar Slytherin after his falling out with the other three Founders. It was said that he left behind some sort of monster that would one day be awakened by his true heir to purge Hogwarts of the unworthy. Every student heard about it, sooner or later. No one would confirm or deny.

"Yes, Albus, I am", Amelia consulted the report she got from Dawlish.

"Myrtle Warren, age 12, died 13 April, 1954. Found in a stall in a second floor girls' restroom at Hogwarts. No cause of death determined, remains a cold case file to this day. You were the Transfigurations Professor at that time, if I'm correct".

"Yes, my immediate predecessor, Professor Armando Dippet, was Headmaster. A most unfortunate incident that almost resulted in the closing of Hogwarts", Dumbledore confirmed.

"Yet Hogwarts wasn't closed, was it? Another fortunate coincidence, at the last minute the culprit was caught by Tom Riddle: thirteen year old Rubius Hagrid. I don't like fortunate coincidences, Albus. He was expelled, his wand broken, and he was forbidden from ever practicing magic. A rather light punishment for murder, don't you think?"

"If it is your intention to prosecute, I can assure you..."

"I have no intention to prosecute your Gamekeeper and Professor, Albus. He didn't do it, did he? How could he? He isn't Slytherin's true heir, but we know who is".

"And who might that be?"

"There are two, actually, Tom Riddle and Harry Potter. We know Potter couldn't've done it in 1954, and he's not at Hogwarts now. What really happened back then?"

"I don't see the point".

"Then let me explain it to you: Riddle has made a second attempt on a student of Hogwarts, this time, Ginny Weasley..."

"Is she alright?", Dumbledore asked, concerned.

"Miss Weasley is just fine now, no thanks to Hogwarts or its staff. She has told me that she almost opened the Chamber, but for Miss Warren's timely intercession. It would seem this Chamber isn't quite the legend we were led to believe. If it isn't just the stuff of legend, then it represents an ongoing threat to the safety of the children. Furthermore, we might be able to clear Hagrid, restore his reputation. There are a couple of very good points, I would think. You were on pretty good terms with Mr Riddle?"

"Yes, I was. As for Hagrid, we all know how he feels about his pets. It was his misfortune to be raising an acromantula in a broom closet down on the first floor. Somehow, Tom found out about it, and tried to catch it, but the acromantula was by that time large enough to knock him down and escape. Still, Tom claimed it was the Beast of Slytherin who killed Miss Warren, and that Hagrid was covering for it".

"He had nothing to do with the Chamber of Secrets?"

"Obviously not, if Miss Warren had been attacked by an acromantula, there would have been bite marks; there would have been traces of venom in her bloodstream. The autopsy revealed nothing of the sort. The cause of death remains unknown, and Hagrid's wand was examined for the Killing Curse, which he never cast".

"In that case, then how was it that he was expelled?"

"Hagrid was somewhat of a problem student. He had already been caught, and disciplined, for trying to raise werewolf cubs in his dorm, he was always sneaking off to the Forbidden Forest without permission, once to participate in a troll wrestling contest. That he would open the Chamber to 'rescue' (finger quotes) the Beast of Slytherin to make a pet out of it fits his profile.

"On the other hand, his accuser was a model student, a Prefect, and soon to be Head Boy. A boy with a perfect rags to riches back story, rescued from a muggle orphanage after the tragic loss of his mother in childbirth, admitted to Hogwarts on a full scholarship, one of the most extraordinarily gifted students to walk through the doors. A student who was every teacher's pet.

"The Ministry was seriously considering closing Hogwarts, which would have meant that Tom would spend all his time until he turned 21 at Wool's Orphanage, which he despised with a passion. He was determined to remain at Hogwarts. To prevent embarrassment to the Ministry of a dead girl and no explanation, Headmaster Dippet went along, both accused Hagrid of loosing the monster, purely by accident, of course. The attacks stopped, the Ministry was satisfied with expulsion, and Hogwarts remained open. Tom was given an award, Service of Merit, which is still on display in Hogwarts trophy room in exchange for his silence".

"So you were party to a fraud that cost an innocent student his education and wand".

"It was necessary if Hogwarts were to remain open to continue the education of generations of students who followed. Someone had to take the blame so that the matter could be considered resolved. We kept Hagrid on, we didn't throw him out into the cold. Headmaster Dippet arranged it so that Hagrid could stay, learn the craft of Gamekeeper – a position he's held ever since. I've seen to it that he was appointed Keeper of the Keys, and then Care of Magical Creatures professor after Professor Kettleburn's retirement".

"And you think that makes it alright? What about justice for Myrtle Warren? Did you ever think of that? Of her parents?"

"How could we do anything when we didn't know anything? No one knows how she died, or who is responsible, if anyone".

"I'd bet that a thorough investigation at the time would have implicated your Golden Boy, and that would have avoided forty years' worth of unpleasantness, unpleasantness that's still on-going. Mr Potter, Miss Granger, and now Miss Weasley are paying the price of your corruption".

"I think that's an unnecessarily harsh way to put it. As for Miss Warren, we still have no idea what happened, but we do know there was no sign of foul play. As for her parents, we explained to the best of our ability, and to their satisfaction. If you consult the original documents..."

"I have, and you're right, no cause of death established".

"There was no evidence that the Chamber was opened, or even that such a Chamber exists. Mr Riddle was nowhere near Miss Warren at the time of her death".

"So you say. Needless to say, the Aurors are going to conduct an inspection. I will get to the bottom of this, and I pray you had nothing to do with it".

"The only thing I am guilty of is mentoring a very talented, bright student – one of the brightest Hogwarts has ever seen. I regret that I was unable to put him on the right path, but it's understandable, given Mr Riddle's troubled past".

"That'll be all for now", Amelia said.

"Good day, Madam Bones".

"Good day, Albus"

Amelia Bones sat and wondered. Even that long ago, Dumbledore was clearly demonstrating his slippery ethics. That he would stand by, do nothing, while a young boy was life-ruined to keep his school open, then believe giving him the Gamekeeper position made everything right. That Hagrid was, to this day, singing the praises of the very one who screwed him over, was pure Dumbledore.

 _Beaux Batons_

"You certainly 'ave 'ad an eventful three days in your absence", Madam Maxime said as she met him in her office. "Letters from the 'Ed of your Department of Magical Law Enforcement, the 'Edmistress of 'Ogwarts, and the Veasleys".

"Yes, Ma'am", he said.

"I understand you 'ad no choice in the matter, and 'elping the girl was the right thing to do. That is not vhat concerns me. It's the disruption to the school. Ve can't 'ave students being pulled out of class vithout varning. Vhy is it that you are able to do the things that the supposed authorities can not?"

"It's Voldemort: you see, there is a connection that was formed on the night I got this", Harry showed off the scar. "I can sense when he's on the move. That's why Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia wanted me away from Hogwarts. I think he's trying to finish what he started on that night he murdered my parents".

"I thought 'e vas dead, no?"

"No, not really. He's in some sort of halfway state, neither fully alive nor dead, and he means to return. That's why he attacked Ginny – to acquire the life force that would have reincarnated him, but at the price of Ginny's life. I saw it for myself last year".

"But you left 'Ogwarts"

"It doesn't look like Hogwarts has left me".

"For your sake, I 'ope it has. You are not excused from the class material for the days you missed".

"Yes, Ma'am"

"You're not in any sort of trouble?", Hermione asked, concerned.

"At least not with Madam Maxime, but she's still not thrilled about it".

"How do you mean?"

"Dobby pulled me right out of class, in front of everyone. How would you react if you saw that? Right out of the blue, and, POOF, one of your classmates disappears?"

"I see… Think it'll happen again?"

"That's up to Voldemort. This is the second time he's tried something like this. Who knows when, or where, he will strike next? Whatever you may think of him, one thing's for certain: you can't accuse him of stupidity. He knew about the Stone, and now Madam Bones tells me that diary was a Horcrux. Who knows how many of the damn things are still out there? I can't promise that I won't be called back to Hogwarts without warning.

"What's a Horcrux?"

"I'll tell you at the noon break. At least we don't have to deal with Snape".

They had Potions this morning. The Potions Mistress was a good deal easier to deal with than Professor Snape.

At the mid-afternoon break, Harry explained what Madam Bones had told him about Horcruxes, that they were a means to stay alive.

"Bones said nothing about how these are made, or how they actually work. It would mean they preserve the barest minimum of life. Voldemort may be immortal, but not indestructible. He still needs other means to come back fully".

"What happens if you destroy a Horcrux?"

"Don't know, I suppose the one who made it dies".

"Then it's over, it's finally over", Hermione said.

"I'm not too sure about that. What if there's more than one? He could still be out there, somewhere. It wasn't actually Voldemort in that diary, just the memory of his sixteen year old self. Even if that memory is gone for good, maybe he isn't".

"If it wasn't really him...?"

"Would it matter? His sixteen year old self materializes, and he catches up. Old Voldemort or new Voldemort, he's back and as dangerous as ever. It would seem he killed a girl at Hogwarts even as a sixteen year old.

"It's a question of when at this point. I don't know. I don't know what form he takes, where or how he hides. That's twice he's made an attempt, and again, it was at Hogwarts. I strongly suspect – and fear – we haven't heard the last from him. The only question is how he will try again. And when will he succeed?".

"Then we haven't heard the last of him, have we?"

"I don't think so".

"What else?", Hermione asked.

"Amelia is trying to track down who gave that diary to Ginny, and why he did so after all these years. She's trying to get to the bottom of this Chamber of Secrets story. I suppose Hogwarts will be crawling with aurors by now…

"So I miss anything special?"

"Just Quiddich practice; Fleur is plenty pist. Also the announcement of a Transfiguration test for tomorrow".

"Shit! I don't suppose you'd..."

"I hated that when I was in muggle school, the stupid kids always asking for class notes, always wanting me to do their class projects for them. However, in your case, I'll make an exception".

"You're the greatest".

"Don't make a habit of it".

 **0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF**

Three days later, Harry received an owlpost at breakfast. When he got a chance to read it…

 _Dear Harry,_

 _Hope Madam Maxime wasn't too pissed off. If this letter finds you, I guess you weren't kicked out of Beaux Batons. That would be a real shame, you wear the uniform so well. You missed your calling, you make a cute girl._

 _You know a Peter Pettigrew? Didn't you once mention that name? Did you know he's right here, living with Weasel King? He never leaves the dorm, not that I can see via the Marauder's Map. If only I could get up there, into Gryffindor Tower._

 _You'll be pleased to know that all is forgiven with Ginny. She was being a real asshole about that diary, and pretty much every Ravenclaw was getting to hate her guts. McGonagall was good enough to explain in the Great Hall that it wasn't her fault._

 _Everything's back to normal: DADA still SUX, Snape is riding the Gryffindors as hard as ever always looking for reasons to dock points. Neville messed up a Shrinking Potion, and Snape told him he would make Trevor drink it. It was supposed to be red, but Neville's was green and too runny. Somehow, Neville finally got the formula right just in time. Trevor shrank back to a tadpole size, unharmed. Snape still docked Gryffindor five points, disappointed Trevor didn't die, I guess. Snape said his lab partner was helping. Maybe he was, or maybe not that I saw. Hagrid misses you and Hermione, and McGonagall is still confused as ever._

 _Take care, your friend_

 _Draco_

Harry looked at what he'd just read with astonishment. Wormtail, right there at Hogwarts! This was the break he'd been waiting for, Sirius' ticket out of Azkaban.

 _Dear Draco,_

 _You bet I know Peter Pettigrew, or as he's also known: Wormtail. He was one of the Marauders. He's also the bastard that betrayed James and Lily to Voldemort. He's supposed to be dead, and he is the reason why Sirius Black is still in Azkaban. As for how he got there, does Ron have a pet rat? Pettigrew was called Wormtail because a rat is his animagus form._

 _For now, do nothing, just keep an eye on him with the Map. Don't do anything that might alert him, let him know we're onto him. Otherwise, he might disappear once again. I'll let Amelia know about it, and the aurors can deal with him. Producing Pettigrew ought to get Sirius that trial he never got._

 _Maybe you can ask me out on a date._

 _XXXOOO_

 _Harry_

 **0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF**

 _Hogwarts:_

The aurors arrived to inspect the second floor bathroom.

"Moanin' Myrtle?", Dawlish called out.

"I do not answer to that name! Who _dares_ to invade my bathroom?!", the ghost of Myrtle Warren stuck her head through a stall door. She was well known for her abrasive personality.

"I apologize, Miss Warren… John Dawlish with the Auror Corps"

"That's better", as she came fully into the room.

"What happened back in 1954?"

For once Moanin' Myrtle lit up as though flattered immensely.

"Oooooo… it was _awful._ That horrid Olivia Hornsby was teasing me about my glasses yet again, so I came in here, that very stall", she pointed to the farthest stall from the door. "I didn't want anyone to see me cry, you see. I was all alone, then I heard someone come in. I didn't know who it was, but I heard a voice, a _boy's_ voice. He was saying something very strange, like maybe a foreign language, but it didn't sound at all human.

"Anyway, I slid back the bolt to tell him off, to go to the boys' room. I opened the stall door, and, I died. Just like that", she silently snapped her fingers.

"What happened after you opened the door? Did you recognize this boy? Could you identify him from a photo line-up?"

"All I saw were these big, yellow eyes. Then my body kind'a seized up, and the next thing I knew, I was floating away. I didn't leave because I was determined to get even, to haunt that Olivia for the rest of her _miserable_ life!"

"Where did you see the eyes?"

"Over there, by the sinks".

The sinks were grouped in a circle in the center of the room. The aurors went to inspect. The sinks looked perfectly normal, they checked the plumbing, everything around and above the sinks.

That's when Dawlish noticed: a small figure engraved into one of the brass taps. A snake. He turned the handle.

"Don't bother", Myrtle told him, "that tap never worked anyway".

"Did it ever?"

"Not to my knowledge".

"You've been most helpful, Miss Warren".

"You're kind'a cute. You can visit my toilet any time you like".

"What do you think?", Williamson asked.

"Let me see the floor plan", Dawlish requested.

"This bathroom was built in 1908", he explained. "Constructed by Eliason and Sons – a wizarding construction company. Says here, the family was into the Dark Arts. No further change to the plans".

"You suppose it's here?"

Dawlish twiddled the tap, nothing happened.

"If it's protected by magic… There's another way".

A trio of reliable squibs, who knew how to keep their mouths shut, arrived a few days later, the corridor was yellow taped off, a diesel powered compressor and jackhammers were brought in to the dismay of Moanin' Myrtle, who could do nothing about it.

First, they smashed the defective sink with sledges. Next, their jack hammers tore into the stone floor. The whole castle reverberated with the sound, quite unlike anything ever heard at Hogwarts.

"Got something!", one of the workers called out as the drill point hit a void.

Soon, a wide, deep, opening was revealed. A large drain pipe from the look of it. They saw nothing but dark.

"Well, well, well, it would seem they were a good deal busier and not just on a new bathroom", Dawlish observed.

One of the aurors dropped in on a rope: "Doesn't drop straight down", he called back. He let go, and slid down the length of the pipe, a slimy version of a water park slide. How far did this go? He couldn't tell, but definitely underneath the dungeons, perhaps under Black Lake, as this was the right direction. The pipe leveled off, and he shot out the end.

"It's really quite disgusting down here", the rest of the aurors barely heard him. Dawlish and the rest followed.

They were in a large, stone tunnel that intersected the pipe. "Lumos", they lit their wands. It was still very dark, the ceiling of the tunnel didn't look too stable. It could easily date back to the Founders. They saw that they were crunching the skeletons of untold numbers of small animals. They saw something up ahead, something like a large hose left behind. Coming closer…

" _Merlin_ , that's a big one!"

"Looks to be at least at least six meters in length".

This was clearly the shed skin of a huge serpent, poison green in colour.

"How big could it be now?"

"Depends on how old this one is. Best to collect samples for analysis".

"If that fucker ever got loose in the castle, lots of kids could die".

The aurors pressed on until they came to a dead end. A smooth wall decorated by two, intertwined serpents. Their emerald eyes glowing in the light.

"What do you think? The Chamber of Secrets?"

"Probably. No way of knowing how to open it, or even if we should".

"What do you suppose it is?"

"Beginning to look like a basilisk. That fits the pattern: Miss Warren dies as soon as she sees eyes, that snake skin, the fact that it's attributed to Slytherin himself. If it was him, a basilisk would fit his style. And let's not forget: Miss Weasley broke the necks of Hagrid's roosters. The crow of the cock is instantly fatal to the basilisk".

"Best be getting back, make our reports to Madam Bones".

 _London: Ministry of Magic_

Amelia Bones was reviewing the evidence recovered from the secret chamber far below Hogwarts. Forensics confirmed the snakeskin was indeed that of a basilisk. The question was how to get past the doors?

"What do we do about it? Demolition? Drill into the lake bed above it, flood the tunnel?", Dawlish asked.

"Which just might give Slytherin's beast another way out. Don't forget that. The Chamber can only be opened by Slytherin's true heir", she explained. "I hate to say it, but we need Mr Potter. Yes, I know how that looks, relying on a twelve year old boy..."

"A boy who is in France, a boy whose step father has expressed how he feels about involving him in no uncertain terms, and I definitely see his point. I don't see the Dursleys approving".

"Then the only choice is to close Hogwarts. That's the only way to be sure we aren't putting children at risk, children whose parents trust us to keep them safe. Have you forgotten? The beast has claimed one life already, and that's one too many".

"Then what do you suggest?"

"Get in touch with Madam Maxime, and request Potter's assistance. We can always apologize later. Do it on a Saturday so his absence won't interfere with classes".

"I still don't see how we can just ignore the Dursleys?"

"When Mr Potter took lordship over Gaunt, he automatically attained majority".

 _Beaux Batons_

"Why does Madam Maxime want to see you on a Saturday?", Hermione asked.

"Guess, take a _real good_ guess".

"Hogwarts again? So soon? I wonder who it is this time?"

"Voldemort's not wasting any time"

They parted ways at Madam Maxime's office. Harry knocked.

"Come in 'Arry", she called back.

"You wanted to see… Madam Bones".

"Hello Harry", Amelia greeted.

"It vould seem, Mr Potter, that your services 'ave been requested yet again at 'Ogwarts. Understand, she 'as no jurisdiction 'ere, and if you don't vant to go, you don't 'ave to".

"What's happened? Has someone been hurt?"

"No, Mr Potter, nothing like that. We need you to open the Chamber of Secrets", Bones explained.

"Then it does exist?"

"Yes, and it's a very real threat to every student at Hogwarts. We need your help to close it forever".

"This shouldn't take too long", Harry said to Madam Maxime.

"Then you vill go?"

"Yes, you can trust Madam Bones".

Amelia apparated Harry and herself to the bathroom. For this occasion, McGonagall suspended the ward that prevents apparition. Moanin' Myrtle was bewailing the state of her bathroom.

"We need you to open the Chamber", Amelia explained.

"What makes you think I can do it?"

"You are the last true heir of Slytherin, and only that heir can do it".

"I'll see what I can do, but no promises, OK?"

"Just do your best".

Dawlish handed Harry coveralls and work boots: "You might want to change before we go down".

Harry retreated to a stall, to change out of his uniform. He climbed down and began the long slide. Dawlish followed. The other aurors were waiting at the mouth of the pipe. They had strung lanterns to light the way. One was carrying a covered bird cage. Harry saw why a change was a real good idea.

"Careful, no loud noises", Williamson warned. From the condition of the ceiling, Harry understood why. The group crunched their way past the snakeskin.

Harry whistled softly.

At the end, the wall with the intertwined snakes.

"How will we get in?"

"Easy, I'm going to ask it to open politely… in Parseltongue"

"Open up", he said it with a gutteral hissing sound.

The intertwined serpents with emerald eyes unwrapped themselves from each other, the wall parted between them, as the stone doors slid open with a soft stone-on-stone grinding sound.

A large chamber was revealed. Torches lit themselves. A path lined by columns on either side, each with a serpent coiled around it, reached from floor to ceiling. At the far end, stood a tall statue. Near the foot of the statue, they could see water infiltrating from the lake above them pooled. The figure was seated, clean shaven, shaved head. There was a serpent curled up on the left side of his head. A figure with a severe expression.

Salazar Slytherin.

"Now what?", Dawlish asked.

"Let me think..."

What would one say, Harry wondered. He studied the statue, thought about how one might address Salazar Slytherin.

"Speak to me, Slytherin, greatest of the Hogwarts Four", he said in Parseltongue.

They watched as the mouth of the statue was changing. It was becoming wider, rounder, until it formed a pipe-like opening. They heard something on the move deep inside. Then, like a tongue, a poison green form appeared.

"Eyes!", Dawlish called out.

He and the rest of the aurors donned eye shades that blocked their sight.

Its body as thick as a full grown oak, its head pointed upwards, so its eyes weren't visible. Its forked tongue flicking in and out of its mouth. More and more serpent appeared. The massive form reached the floor in front of the statue.

"Who calls for Slytherin?", it asked in Parseltongue.

"Now Williamson!", Dawlish called out.

He performed the maneuver he'd practiced. Off came the cover over the cage, as he reversed the stasis charm, The rooster, still believing it was greeting the rising sun, let out a series of crows.

"Get back!", Harry called out.

The Beast of Slytherin dropped with a mighty thud that shook the floor. Its head at Harry's feet.

"It's OK", Harry said.

"Merlin! Look at the size of that fucker!"

They estimated its length to be about fifteen meters.

"You should have called me sooner. It wasn't necessary to destroy Moanin' Myrtle's bathroom. I'm sure it would have opened if asked in Parseltongue… Do me a favour", Harry requested, "keep my name out of this".

"Why?"

"In the first place, I don't need any extra notoriety. In the second place, we know how Hagrid feels about critters. I don't want him to know I had anything to do with this. If he knew, he'd be upset with me for denying him the chance to make it a pet".

One last thing to do before he returned to Beaux Batons.

"Myrtle", Harry called out.

"Oh it's you. I see you survived. That's too bad, we could have shared a toilet".

"Yes, it's over. The Beast of Slytherin is gone, you have received justice, so you can move on now".

"What if I like it here?"

"I'm sure your mother missed you every day since you saw the basilisk's eyes. She misses you still, and is waiting on the other side".

"Mother… died?"

"Five years ago. I'm sure she'd like to see you again. It's over, at long last, it's over".

Moanin' Myrtle faded away, never to be seen nor heard again. Harry cleaned up in the prefect's bathroom before putting on his uniform and apparition back to Beaux Batons.

The magical archaeologists would have many field days, exploring the Chamber of Secrets, recovering and cataloging artifacts, many of which would feature in a new display room at the school.

The recently deceased King of Serpents didn't go to waste. Snape recovered the venom and bile – highly rare, expensive, and potent ingredients for potions, The skin made for stylish and tough boots and gloves and pouches.


	26. To Catch a Rat

**To Catch a Rat**

"'Ow did it go at 'Ogwarts?", Madam Maxime asked Harry after He returned with Amelia Bones.

"No problems at all. I was able to get that Chamber opened. There was this enormous basilisk hiding in there. Must've been there for a thousand years, and it had grown enormously in that time. The aurors got rid of it with a rooster, so it's no longer a threat to anyone. Their only concern now is rubber neckers trying to see what's down there. I suppose it'll be sealed when they're done with it".

"Harry was a big help", Amelia confirmed. "Thank you for allowing him to come back with me".

"I vouldn't normally allow a student off campus like that, but as a professional courtesy, I vas 'appy to do so. Vhat I don't understand is vhy you needed Mr Potter?"

"I can answer that", Harry said. "The Chamber only opens for those who speak Parseltongue, which I do. The only other way would have been to blow the doors, and that probably would have brought down the whole passage, it was in such bad condition".

"Harry will be happy to know that this discovery means his friend, Mr Hagrid, will finally have his name cleared. With the discovery of the basilisk, it's open and shut".

"That is good news", Harry agreed.

Hermione naturally wanted to hear all about it. So did Harry's room mate Henri, and a lot of their classmates. It isn't every day that the representative of a government requests the presence of a student out of school. He told them at study hall, downplaying his involvement.

"So you speak Parseltongue?", Dominique Lebraun, a class above Harry's asked.

"Yes, that's why they needed me since the Chamber of Secrets can only be opened if you ask in Parseltongue. It's something I've known for a long time, the first time with a garter snake in the garden".

"Isn't that the hall mark of dark magi?"

"It's a rare gift", Harry explained, "and like uncommon things, the subject of all sorts of silly superstitions. I promise I'll keep the black magic to a bare minimum".

Harry got busy with his latest letter, after they had a good laugh.

 _Dear Remus:_

 _I have discovered the whereabouts of your old pal, Wormtail. He's living at Hogwarts impersonating Ron Weasley's pet. Draco saw him on the Marauder's Map, and it's pretty obvious: he never leaves the Gryffindor dorms, likely living in a cage as would any other rat. He does sometimes get out since Ron sometimes sleeps with him. I haven't told anyone yet, and Draco is keeping an eye out. Here's my dilemma, and I need some advice._

 _How do I inform Madam Bones without revealing the Map? Do I just say nothing, and deny that I know who Wormtail, Padfoot, Prongs, and Moonie are? In that case, how do I explain the Map? If I say I got it at Zonkos, that's way too easy to check out. If I tell don't I also blow Sirius' cover as an illegal animagus, and you as a were? I don't want to see Sirius sprung for killing those muggles and Peter, only to see him sent right back to Azkaban for not registering as an animagus. I also know you don't want to broadcast to everyone that you are a were, even if I never had a problem with it._

 _What do I do?_

 _Regards,_

 _Harry_

"So what are you working on?", Gabrielle asked.

"Nothing special, just a letter home"

"That reminds me, I owe my folks a letter".

 _London: Ministry of Magic_

"To sum up, the official transcripts from Hogwarts clearly demonstrate that Tom Riddle identified the beast he saw as being hairy and with multiple legs. The true beast from the Chamber of Secrets is clearly a basilisk, which has neither hair nor legs. My client, Mr. Rubius Hagrid, could not have opened the Chamber, and the cause of Myrtle Warren's death is indeterminate. This would not be the case had she been attacked by the acromantula Mr Hagrid claims he was raising at Hogwarts. In conclusion, there is sufficient evidence to reverse the expulsion, restore Mr Hagrid's academic standing, and reverse the prohibition of both wand ownership and the practice of magic. Justice delayed is justice denied, and this delay has gone on now for far too long".

"Not so fast, Councilor. Wouldn't the manner of Miss Warren's death be consistent with a basilisk attack?"

"It would, however, earlier this year, another case..."

"This would be that of Miss Weasley?"

"It would: during the investigation, it was established that Tom Marvolo Riddle and Lord Voldemort are one and the same. He would have had both the means and the motive to open the Chamber, and set loose the basilisk within. Mr Hagrid had neither, as he does not speak Parseltongue, and Lord Voldemort does".

"Does the Department of Magical Law Enforcement have any objections?"

"None, Mr Chief Warlock, none whatsoever", Madam Bones' representative replied.

"Then I call for a vote of the Wizengamot. All those in favour of granting Mr Hagrid's petition light your wands green".

The dimly lit chamber was filled with green light.

"Those opposed light your wands red"

There were a few spots of red.

"The petition is granted, and I declare this proceeding closed".

The vote was overwhelmingly in Hagrid's favour.

"Congratulations, Rubius".

"Tankee much, Albus"

"It is not I you should be thanking, Rubius, but Mr Potter".

"Aye".

 _Beaux Batons_

Harry received two letters this morning.

 _Dear Harry,_

 _I can't thank you enough for what you did for me, The Wizengamot restored my wand, and now I don't have to hide it inside that umbrella anymore. I won't be going back to class, as I've been getting lessons on the sly all along. Besides, I wouldn't fit behind a desk anymore. It was hard enough when I was a wee lad._

 _The Blast Ended Skrewts didn't work out as well as I'd hoped. They kept fighting, killing one another off. I thought it was just boredom, but letting them roam didn't help. To make up, I'm going to introduce my classes to my new critter. His name is Buckbeak, and he's a hippogryph. I've sent along some pictures Colin was only all too happy to take for me. He's a real beauty._

 _I wish you could be here; I'm sure you and Hermione would enjoy my Care of Magical Critters class._

 _Thank you again,_

 _Yours,_

 _Hagrid_

The included photos showed Buckbeak with Hagrid in a paddock near the cabin. The hippogryph was an amalgamation of eagle and horse, a type of gryphon. The head and front legs those of an eagle. The feathers gradually blending into hair, and the back half of a horse. Buckbeak could soar on powerful wings. The whitish-gray contrasting with the snow covered paddock. Both Buckbeak and Hagrid were puffing out white wisps of breathe in the cold air.

Another picture was Buckbeak laying on a large quilt while munching his favourite snack: ferrets. He was inside the cabin, and could barely fit through the front door. In another, he and Fang curled up by the fire. That he would bring Buckbeak inside the Gamekeeper's cabin was so Hagrid.

Other pictures showed Buckbeak soaring over the castle. More of his flying over the lake, skimming water into his beak as he went. Hagrid's version of this class looked a good deal more fun than the one he attended. Colin had mastered developing photos that moved like animated GIFs.

 _Dear Harry:_

 _You made the right decision not to alert Madam Bones to the location of Pettigrew, and I concur: she must not know about the Map, and Sirius' illegal status as an unregistered animagus. We need to see that she is made aware of Pettigrew's having faked his own death, but it would be for the best if you were not involved._

 _I have a plan that should see Sirius' case reopened, and his getting a fair trail soon. The Christmas break is coming up, and I'm sure Ron will be returning to the Burrow for the holidays. It is there that I shall confront Pettigrew, and present him to Madam Bones. After that, his fate will be in her hands. I can't get too specific as to how this will be done as it's a case of the less you know the better. Rest assured: you should have your godfather back by New Years._

 _Yours,_

 _Remus_

Harry figured that Lupin's plan either wasn't altogether on the legal up-and-up, or he didn't want to say in case the letter was seen by the wrong eyes. Fine by him: the less explaining he had to do, the better.

 _Charms_

"For today's lesson we will be working on the Cheering Charm. I would like the class to form pairs for practice. If you get this charm right, we will be the happiest class on the campus. As mentioned when I introduced this charm, I explained how it banishes depression. If you don't, then no harm done. If we can begin, I will come around to see how you're doing, and provide assistance".

Harry and Gabrielle Delacourt, Fleur's younger sister, also Harry's age. Paired off to practice.

"Anything?", Gabrielle asked.

"Nothing, sorry. Let me try".

"Didn't feel a thing", she said.

Hermione's partner was all giggles. She'd beaten him to it, for once.

"Here, let me try again", Harry said, "I think I know what I did wrong..."

"That's much better", Gabrielle said. "Let me try..."

"Still nothing", Harry told her.

She tried again: "How about now?"

"That's much better", Harry confirmed.

"Are you sure?"

"I wouldn't tell you otherwise. I'm sure we'll be tested".

For the next three hours, these were the happiest students in the whole school.

 _Hogwarts: Divination_

"All I get from staring into that ball is eyestrain", Neville had stayed back after class. "I don't know what I'm doing wrong, or what's supposed to happen".

"You can't force the visions when skrying the ball", Professor Trelawney explained. "You should clear the mind to let the clairvoyance come over you. It won't work if you try to force it..."

"Professor?", Trelawney suddenly went completely blank, with that "nobody home" stare.

"The Master lies alone and friendless, abandoned by his followers. The Servant will begin his quest for his Master on solstice night. The Servant will reunite with his Master! The Master will rise more terrible than ever before! The Servant begins his quest on solstice night!"

"Professor?"

"… no preconceived notions..."

"What were you saying? You… changed, said something very strange, in a voice I never heard before".

"Did I? I can't recall..."

"Yeah, you sort of zoned out for a few seconds".

"Did I?"

"You don't know?"

"I would suggest forgetting it, and remember, visions can't be forced. Seeing into the future is an inexact art, and not everyone has the ability. It will come – or not – in its own good time".

"Yes, Professor".

"What did you want to see Trelawney for?", Dean asked.

"Looking for tips on the crystal ball".

"Don't waste your time with that fraud", Earnie reprimanded, "you're not going to get an OWL for Divination. I don't know why they bother..."

"No she isn't!", Parvati was defending. The Patil sisters were the only ones who believed in Sybil Trelawney. "Don't you remember? At the start of the term, she said some of us wouldn't be here..."

"She's always saying we're gonna die", MacMillan said, "It's just plain creepy"

"...Then Draco and Greg quit the class just last week. She predicted it!"

At the start of the term, Trelawney had announced during a lesson on reading tea leaves: "Some of you won't be with us by the end of the term", making it sound like one or more would die. She didn't go into specifics when asked who it was. Then she went on and on about a big black dog she'd seen in a vision. She called it a "Grimm", and said that it was a harbinger of death, that it was likely one of the last things you'd see in this lifetime. She mentioned it along with Harry Potter. Last week, Draco had had enough.

"Not that Grimm bullshit again!", he said. "Harry is alive and well at Beaux Batons. I just got a letter not too long ago. If there were anything wrong I'd've heard about it by now".

"Mr Malfoy, your thinking is too linear, your mind too mundane..."

"Fine! Then I won't be wasting any more of your time with my mundane mind. I'm outta here!"

Greg Goyle came along. It cost them a detention and Slytherin 20 points, but it was worth it, to escape the Gypsie fortune teller fraud.

"If you keep the 'predictions' vague enough, then of course they come true. Even muggle fortune tellers know that!"

"She did say something weird", Neville said.

"Trelawney saying weird shit? Say it ain't so!", a Ravenclaw girl called out.

"This was different".

"If you say so", Dean Thomas said.

"What did she say?", Padma asked.

Neville repeated the prophecy.

"You should report this to McGonagall. It might be important".

Neville had no idea what Trelawney was talking about, but this looked like a real prediction of something that would happen in less than a month. No idea who the servant might be, or the master. He wondered if this referred to Voldemort. Minerva would know what to do...

Midterms were coming up fast…

 **0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF**

Remus was considering plans for taking Pettigrew. Going to Hogwarts was out of the question. Getting on the grounds wasn't the problem, but getting into Gryffindor Tower was: he wouldn't know the password, entering the dorms would definitely call too much attention. Even though Pettigrew would be in his rat form, he would still know what was going on, as the form didn't change his intelligence. There was too great a chance he would escape again, disappear as he'd already done.

It would be best to take him at the Burrow. Ron would be certain to go home for the holidays, and take any pet with him. No boarding for animals, as he recalled from his Hogwarts days. It would also be best to not alert the aurors, but present them with a _fiat accompli_ , so he wouldn't have to answer questions and reveal the Map or knowledge of Sirius' animagus status.

Next, a question of when, but that wasn't a problem: he was always a guest for the holidays, so his appearance would arouse no suspicion. The biggest problem was who to recruit. Unfortunately, there were few surviving members of the original group. Alistair Moody was a possibility, as he'd retired from the Auror Corps, but would he be willing to go vigilante? Probably not. Would he insist on bringing in the aurors? Probably. Talk to Arthur and Molly? That wouldn't be good if Pettigrew sensed that something was up if their behaviour changed in any way, and foreknowledge pretty much guaranteed that would be the case.

That left Ted Tonks, one of the few surviving original members of the Order. And Albus Dumbledore, there was no question but that he should be included. He was also close to Arthur and Molly, so his presence wouldn't seem out of place as he was a frequent guest at the Burrow.

 _London: Ministry of Magic_

Lucius Malfoy and Cornelius Fudge were seen discussing something between meetings. There was nothing unusual in that.

"All things considered, there is very little down side", Lucius was explaining. "Sirius Black has gone far too long now without his day in court".

"Why bring it up now?", Fudge asked.

"You received Directrix Bones' report?"

"I have, and this could embarrass key politicians".

"Think of how it will make _you_ look. Give Black his day in court, and if he's convicted, the whole matter can be forgotten without any embarrassment for anyone, and you still look like a champion of justice. If he's acquitted, after all these years, you can take the credit for seeing that an injustice was corrected. Coming out in favour of one of the little guys who regrettably was allowed to slip through the cracks has popular appeal, regardless of how inconvenient some politicians may find it. Support for reopening the case before the Wizengamot can only make you look good".

"I shall consider it".

"That's all I ask".

 **0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF**

"Ludo"

"Albus"

"Has there been any news about our special project?", Dumbledore asked.

"The Minister is quite receptive", Bagman explained, "if we pull this off, it's a big feather for his cap".

"He will have accomplished something generations of prior Ministers did not".

"He understands that, and that all the bad feelings are in the past. I expect a decision soon, perhaps by the time the World Cup goes off".

"Excellent"

 _Beaux Batons_

"Have a good Christmas", Henri said to Harry. He had his Portkey.

"I shall, though it's going to be a bit busy, between the Yuletide Ball again this year, and other visits to friends and family. It looks like Aunt Marge will be dropping in as well. Maybe she'll bring along her new boyfriend? You aren't staying over".

"I don't think mine will be as exciting".

"I kind of wish mine weren't. All the crap that's been going on, I could use a break".

 _4 Privet Drive_

"I'm hooooome!", Harry announced as he stepped through the front door, though it wasn't necessary as they expected his arrival on the afternoon of the ninteenth.

"Right on schedule", Petunia greeted. "Dudley will be back from Smeltings in a couple of days. Aunt Marge will be spending Christmas with us, so we won't be able to go to the Malfoys. If you like, you can go by yourself".

"Too bad to miss it".

"Family comes first, you'll give the Malfoys our regrets?"

"Sure thing".

The day after tomorrow, Harry and Hermione went to King's Cross to meet the Express. They sat at tables in the food court to catch up.

"Been a helluva year", Neville began.

"I thought that, after last year, it was all over", Harry said. "Doesn't look like I'll ever be free of Hogwarts. So, how did the herb hunt go?"

"Gran and I traveled the Mediterranean for rare plants. Found us some on the North Africa side. Gran's raising cuttings in the green houses. It wasn't all work and slogging through bogs and such. Monaco was quite nice".

"It was all camping out", Luna explained, "but we did manage to find a dealer in Stockholm who had a horn of the Crumple Horned Snorkak, so we did find some evidence, though not a living specimen. Father has it mounted on his office wall".

"I guess you heard about Lockhart?", Neville asked.

"Yeah", Harry agreed.

"It's a good thing you set us up with your friend, Lupin. Only way we'd ever hope to get an OWL in defense. First Quirrel and now Lockhart: when will we ever have a decent Defense teacher? At least you and Hermione are getting good lessons".

 _The Burrow_

"Sorry for the short notice", Lupin apologized, "but I had to make it an early Christmas this year…

"You know Ted and Andromeda Tonks?"

Andromeda had formerly been Andromeda Black, sister of Bellatrix, whom she greatly resembled, and to a disturbing degree.

"Been a long time", Ted said, "too long".

"Sure has", Arthur agreed.

Ted and Andromeda were two of the few original Order of the Phoenix left alive.

"Professor...", Molly greeted.

"Alas, I am no longer a Professor", Dumbledore said.

"You will always be Professor to me", Molly disagreed. "I thought you would be retiring?", she asked.

"Since my resignation, I have discovered that I am one with whom retirement simply does not agree", Dumbledore explained. "I have been keeping busy at the Ministry helping co-ordinate the plans for the World Cup".

"Say, how is that going?", Arthur asked.

"Mr. Bagman has had a smoother go with the Supreme Mugwump on his side. Cornelius is quite pleased, and a successful World Cup will greatly help his re-election campaign".

"A word...", Lupin requested of Arthur and Molly. He explained their real reason for coming early, and why they needed to not arouse suspicion.

"Ron isn't going to like this", Arthur said.

There were the mutual introductions: Ron, Ginny, Fred, George, and Percy. Bill and Charles weren't due until the next day.

"So, Ted, how is Nymphadora doing?"

"She's finally been accepted as an auror cadet. Just made her NEWTs, and it's been an aspiration".

Nymphadora was their only daughter, who was a natural shape-shifter: a talent that would come in handy for undercover work.

"I do wish she would have opted for a… ummmmm… less dangerous career", Andromeda complained.

"Dora can take care of herself", Ted reminded.

"Glad to hear it", Arthur said.

"And Remus?", Ted asked.

"Still between jobs, unfortunately. Tough market in this economy, though I do have a tutorial job that's helping keeping body and soul together".

"What market do you mean?"

"I work in IT – a muggle profession", he explained.

"Not for the Ministry?"

"There are… circumstances that aren't compatible with the Ministry", only Albus knew of his being a werewolf.

"Unusual, for one who isn't a squib".

"It's still just as challenging, and as remunerative", Lupin explained.

"Have you considered applying for the Defense professorship?", Ted asked.

"I… don't know about that..."

"If you're worried about that so-called jinx, it's all stuff and nonsense. Those rumours make it self-fulfilling. We need someone who'd be good at it. If your muggle career's stalled, why not?"

"I'll… think about it".

Ron and the kids got eggnog fortified with nothing stronger than nutmeg. The adults; eggnog spiked with Ogden's Finest.

After supper, and more adult conversations, it was about 9:30: "Run along, Ginny, bedtime", Molly announced.

"Isn't it a little early?"

"No complaints, or Santa won't come", Arthur reminded.

Ron and Ginny headed for the stairs.

"Not you, Ron", Lupin called out.

"No fair! How come _he_ gets to stay up?", Ginny said.

"He's older than you", Arthur said, "next year, you can stay up later. For now, you don't want to get on Santa's naughty list".

"I'm too old to believe that".

"Off you go".

Yeah, Ron got to stay up later than usual, but it was all boring adult talk. Their good ol' days were before his time, and his older brother, Percy, was going on and on about all his big plans for his ministry career after he sat his NEWTs, and Ron was still a long way from his first OWL. Fred and George lectured about their lack of ambition, though they dare not mention their real ambition to their parents.

"Ron, why not introduce us to your pet?", Lupin asked at around 11:30.

"You mean Scabbers?"

"Is that his name?"

"What do you want with him?", Ron asked suspiciously.

"Would you get him?"

Ron went up to his room, just below the attic, on the third floor.

"C'mon", he said as he tried to remove the rat from his cage. "Why are you being so difficult?", he said as Scabbers ran from his grip. He squirmed as Ron took him downstairs. Scabbers knew this wasn't something that should be happening, he was suspicious of the guests, and never liked that fact that Lupin was a regular visitor.

"Hand him over", Lupin demanded.

"Why? What do you want him for?"

Lupin took the rat from Ron's hands, held Scabbers by the scruff of the neck.

"Don't hurt him!", Ron demanded.

"Hello Wormtail", Lupin said, as Scabbers struggled even harder. "If he's what you think he is, this won't hurt him in the least", as he took out his wand. "Where'd you get him?", Lupin asked.

"He was Charlie's, gave him to me when he moved away".

"Charlie got him about twelve years ago, am I right? An awful long life for a rat, don't you think?"

"I've been treating him well".

"Ted?", Lupin said, as Ted took out his wand.

Lupin and Ted cast at the same time, suspending Scabbers in mid-air, white light enveloping him. Then he began to change…

A small man, balding, cloak reminding everyone very much of Scabbers' fur coat, retaining some of the rat's characteristics in the beady eyes, the pointed nose, and overbite. It looked like he'd been in his animagus form for too long to completely revert to his human form.

"Remus, my old friend!", he announced, as he made to take his hand.

"Don't 'old friend' me", Lupin pulled his hand back.

" _He's_ Scabbers?!", Ron asked.

"His real name is Peter Pettigrew, or Wormtail as I used to know him. He's an animagus. And you're not my friend, not after what you did to James and Lily".

"I had nothing to do with that", Pettigrew protested. " _Sirius_ was Secret Keeper".

"He was their original Secret Keeper. Sirius transferred that responsibility to you".

"I recommended the transfer", Albus explained. "Voldemort was getting too close to Sirius. His brother, Regulus, was one of his followers".

"What else could I do? You remember how it was, he was taking over everything! There was no where left to run! I admit it: I was never brave like the rest of you".

"So you went running to the baddest bully on the playground for protection? Just like you did at Hogwarts with me, James, and Sirius".

" _He would'a killed me!_ "

"Then you should have _died_ for your friends! The same as I or James or Sirius would have died for _you_. You thought of nothing more than saving your worthless ass, didn't you?"

"Wh… what are you gonna do?", Wormtail asked.

"Turn you over to the aurors, let them deal with you. You're Sirius' way out of Azkaban, and you can take his place..."

"You can't do that! Please, Ron, wasn't I your rat, your Scabbers? You can't let them do this to me! Wasn't I a good pet..."

"Saying you made a better rat than a man isn't much of a brag, Wormtail"

"EWWWWW! I let you sleep in my bed!", Ron said. "He's been living here all along?"

"Ron, he killed a dozen muggles, took off a finger, to frame Sirius for his crimes. My guess is he's more terrified of Hewhomustnotbenamed's followers than us. That's how it went down, didn't it? You betrayed James and Lily to your master, who then gets banished. The double-crosser double-crosses the Dark Lord: that wouldn't sit well with his followers, would it? He attached himself to a wizarding family so he could hear news, news of his master's reappearance so he could go running back to his side.

"Am I right, Peter?"

Ginny had been awakened when Ron came for Scabbers. The rat was suspicious and had put up quite the struggle. After listening to the voices coming up from the sitting room, she got curious, went down to see what was going on. She was in her Pjs, bare feet silent on the steps. No one noticed until it was too late…

Peter had her in a head lock, also using her as a shield. He was short enough so that Ginny concealed him effectively enough to stop them from firing curses at him.

"Drop those wands or, _by Merlin,_ I swear I'll snap her scrawny little neck like a dry twig!"

"Let her go, there are a half-dozen wands on you", Ted Tonks said.

"You want to take that chance?!", Peter demanded, as his grip tightened. Ginny's eyes widened even more. "Think you can cast fast enough? Want to try and find out who's faster?"

"We don't", Dumbledore conceded. He threw his wand aside. "Do it", he said to the others with him. "Just don't hurt her", he said to Wormtail.

"Back! All of you back!", Pettigrew barked.

They had no choice but to cast aside their wands and back off. None had any doubt that he would murder Ginny. Peter still had Ginny, as he made his way to the front door, down the front porch steps, and into the front yard. He shoved Ginny forward as he transformed. A rat scurried across the snow covered lawn, disappearing into the night.

Lupin and the others ran to Ginny, Lupin getting there first. He carried her out of the cold.

"Why?", Ginny was crying with fear, "why does shit like this..."

"Ginny!", Molly called out

"...always happen to me?"

"I think we can overlook the slip of the tongue, given the circumstances", Arthur said. "No knewts for the Cuss-can".

That was a family tradition: when any one of the kids said a bad word, they were obligated to drop in one or more knewts, depending on how bad that word was, into the Cuss-can.

"Honestly, I don't know where she gets it", Molly said. She threw the stink-eye at Fred and George.

"I'll get you something to settle your nerves", Arthur headed for the kitchen, Molly followed.

"No, not elf wine", he said, "this is a job for Ogden", he said to his wife.

"Here, sip this slowly".

"Uggggg...", Ginny made a face as the fiery liquid slid down her throat.

"That's why it's called fire whiskey", Arthur explained.

"A little more", Ginny requested.

"Just a little more for calming, I don't want you getting soused".

The fire whiskey did its job, and Ginny was able to compose herself, to say something coherent.

"Sorry...", she began.

"Not your fault", Lupin explained. "We would have explained, but we didn't want to alert Pettigrew. He'd know if anything weren't normal, and he might scarper".

"Who was that?"

"He's an old... associate of ours", Lupin explained, "that was before you were born, and he did some incredibly evil things. He betrayed..."

"Harry's parents?"

"You know about that?"

"I read about it in Lockhart's book. That's why he's living with his aunt and uncle".

"That, and killing a dozen muggles to save his own worthless hide. He's been hiding out here at the Burrow as Scabbers".

"Here? He's been hiding here, all that time?"

"Yes, Ginny, he has. We found out about it just a few weeks ago, and we were planning on turning him in".

"He was Charlie's originally", Ron explained. "Found him during his last year at Hogwarts, out in the garden. He seemed so friendly, not like the usual wild rat. He sort of adopted him, gave him his name, Scabbers. He left Scabbers to me when he went to the dragon preserve in Norway. I thought he was so healthy for his age because we took good care of him".

"What… happens now?"

"I honestly don't know".

"Will he… come back?"

"Highly doubtful. He knows we're onto him. Wormtail may be a lot of things, and we misjudged his character badly, but he isn't stupid enough to come back here. He didn't mean to do any harm; he was hiding out from the law, and from Hewhomustnotbenamed's followers".

"Ron, Ginny: up to bed", Molly said.

"Don't know how much sleep we're getting", Ron said.

 _4 Privet Drive_

"I'm sorry, Harry, but he got away", Lupin was telling what happened the previous night.

"What does that mean for Sirius?"

"I was hoping we could get him out with Wormtail, but we still have witnesses: Ted and Andromeda Tonks, the Weasleys, and the Professor himself. The word of the Chief Warlock will definitely count for a great deal. Madam Bones will be scheduling interviews. This will cast enough doubt as to the death of Pettigrew, which was, after all, a key piece of evidence against Sirius. Enough doubt to warrant a reexamination of that case. I was hoping for a quicker resolution, though".

"What becomes of Pettigrew now?"

"I suppose he'll lay low for awhile, then hook up with another family as a pet. He doesn't have a lot of alternatives. He'll have the aurors looking for him if he shows up in human form, and the Death Eaters, they can't be too happy with him since they believe he set up the Dark Lord. Once word gets around the Ministry that Pettigrew's been seen, they will be looking for him".

 **0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF**

Aunt Marge was Vernon's sister, making her a semi-aunt due to not being a blood relative. She lived out in the country, in a house with a large garden suited perfectly to her profession as a breeder of bull dogs. She didn't visit often, due to both the distance, and that she hated to leave her dogs behind.

"Get the door", Petunia called out. "That ought to be them now".

Marge was a lot like Vernon used to be: corpulent, with multiple chins, and even a trace of mustache. In one hand, she had a large suitcase, and in the other, her favorite bulldog: Ripper.

"Where's my Dudders? Where's my neffie-poo?"

"Take that upstairs", she said to Harry.

Dudley came from the back hall, wishing she wouldn't say crap like that. He wasn't a little kid anymore, but that fact escaped Marge.

"Welcome, and good to see you again", he said, "you don't come by often enough"

He had to endure a sloppy kiss on the cheek.

"What's wrong with that school? Look at Dudley! Nothing but skin and bones!"

"We decided to shape up a bit", Vernon explained. "Tea, Marge? And what will Ripper take?"

"Tea would be excellent, and Ripper will have some from my saucer".

Fruit cake and tea had been served, and Ripper was lapping tea from the saucer, Petunia winced slightly at the sight of tea mixed with dog slobber dripping onto her clean floor.

"Who's taking care of the dogs while you're away?"

"I have Colonel Fubster looking after them. He's retired now, has lots of time on his hands, and it's good for him to have something to do. Of course I couldn't leave poor old Ripper, the way he pines when I'm away for too long".

"So, you're still here?", Marge asked, as Harry joined them.

"We're on Christmas break, so of course I'm here. Not gonna stay over for the holidays".

"Don't take that tone with me. It was damned good of your foster parents to take you in. You should show more gratitude. Not that I would have done it, you get dropped off at my doorstep, and it would have been straight to an orphanage for you.

"I hoped that school would have knocked some manners into you…

"What school were you sending him?"

"It's called Beaux Batons – a first rate school in France", Vernon explained.

"Weren't you sending him to St Brutus's?"

"It… didn't work out… I didn't approve of the management, so I transferred him to a new school, a better school".

"I know you and your wife are trying to do your best, but you shouldn't blame yourself for how the boy turned out. If there's something rotten on the inside, nothing you can do about it. Same with dog breeding: if there's something wrong with the bitch, there will be something wrong with the pup..."

Vernon banged the table hard enough to make the tea cups jump: "That's ENOUGH, Dear Sister! If I hear _another_ word, you can take your Ripper and yourself to a motel. Am I making myself clear?"

Marge looked utterly shocked.

"You told me his father was an unemployed scrounger, an irresponsible wastrel who killed his wife and himself in a car crash", she said after regaining her voice.

"I never knew exactly what James Potter did, other than he was with law enforcement, something to do with counter terrorism. No one was able to determine exactly how it happened. Maybe it was just an accident, or maybe it was an assassination, no one knows".

"That's not..."

"Yes, I know Harry isn't a blood relative, but he is still our son, and you _will_ treat him as such. If you can't do that, then your luggage, Ripper, and you will be dropped off at the train station right now. _Your_ choice, Marge".

Marge had no choice if she were to stay, but she couldn't understand how both Vernon and Petunia could be so different now. Just two Christmasses ago, Harry had accidentally stepped on Ripper's tail, who retaliated by chasing him into the garden, and up a tree. Marge didn't call Ripper off until nearly midnight, and neither Vernon nor Petunia objected. Nor did they object to every other insult and slight directed Harry's way. Was it Petunia? Had she made Vernon change? Harry recalled none of that.

Marge was about to get another shock: from the back yard, Lucius Lutra appeared at the back door, letting himself into the kitchen.

Marge let out a yelp of surprise and shock, and nearly fell off her chair. Ripper started growling, Lucius hissed at him. Petunia picked him up.

"We'd best keep these two separate. An otter can kill a dog. With Harry off to Beaux Batons and Dudley off to Smeltings, this house gets lonely, so I volunteered at the Otter Trust. Lucius here was deemed unfit for release, so I took him. He's well behaved now, but, oh my, he'd get into everything when he first came here".

"I thought you didn't approve of animals in the house? You're full of surprises, aren't you?"

"Indeed I am", Petunia agreed.

He'd heard everything with his otter sensitive hearing. That night, he hit Marge with a stunner after everyone was asleep. His scanner found the compulsions almost immediately.

"You son of a…", he thought to himself. Aunt Marge's treatment of Harry all these years was due to Dumbledore's compulsions. These, he neutralized before reversing the stunner.

The next day, Claude Forbin arrived: he was Marge's latest love interest. He looked to be about ten years younger, and quite different from Marge, as he was slim and trim.

"There's my Claudie-poo", she greeted him at the door with a full lip lock kiss.

"And my Margie".

There were the introductions: Vernon, Petunia, and Harry.

"It's too bad you won't be joining us for supper", Marge said to Harry.

"It was a prior commitment", Harry explained. "I will be here for Christmas, though. I'll be visiting some friends from school. Meet up at Hermione's and we'll leave for Wiltshire from there".

"So, how did you two meet?", Vernon asked.

"It was at a bull dog exhibition", Claude explained, "Marge got a blue ribbon, and we just hit it off right from the start".

"You're a breeder too?"

"Indeed, I am. That's what delayed me, needing to find help with the kennels".

"That's my ride", Harry announced at the sound of two beeps. He had his Beaux Batons uniform in a carrier slung over a shoulder.

"Give your Aunt Marge a kiss", Marge said at the door.

Harry gave her a peck on the cheek, as he headed out the door to the waiting taxi. He and Hermione changed before Portkeying to Malfoy Manor.

 _Malfoy Manor_

Harry was announced with the Grangers. Madam Longbottom and Neville were there, as were the Lovegoods. A lot of old faces were absent. Harry figured these were the Death Eaters who declined the invite. Also the pure blood fanatics who didn't approve of this year's guest list.

"Too bad Vernon and Petunia couldn't be with us", Narcissa told him.

"Aunt Marge doesn't visit too often", Harry explained. "Dudley had to stay behind as well".

"It's family, quite understandable. Perhaps next year, then?"

Minister Fudge was there, and quire eager to talk to Harry.

"Good job you did with Miss Weasley, and the Chamber of Secrets", he complimented.

"Thanks for that, and I'm just glad I could help out. At least Hogwarts will be safer now that the basilisk won't be a threat".

"Too bad about losing an artifact of one of Hogwarts' founders, though lots of other artifacts are being recovered. Up till now, the only surviving memento of Slytherin was Slytherin's locket, but that too disappeared years ago.

"Have you considered coming back? After all, you haven't completely separated yourself from Hogwarts".

"That's up to my folks, but maybe after I turn seventeen I can sit my NEWTs at Hogwarts. For now, Beaux Batons has been doing right by me. Though you're right, it doesn't look like Hogwarts has separated itself from me".

"We still miss you at Hogwarts… I always thought Beaux Batons was a girls' school?"

"Madam Maxime changed that policy, but there is still just the one uniform for all the students. Maybe she figured that'll keep it a mostly all girls' school".

"How is Madam Maxime?"

"Doing great".

"Good to hear. I shan't keep you any longer. Go have fun with your friends".

Harry decided it best not to press Fudge about Sirius, keep the politics to a bare minimum.

Dobby prepared another magnificent Yule feast. Afterwards, the youngsters could retire to their entertainment room. Fortunately, this year, there were no unpleasant incidents.

Harry spent Christmas itself with his folks, and Aunt Marge and her boyfriend, and Lucius. His presence was a most fortunate coincidence for Marge.

"I had a special Christmas surprise, you could come to the kennels and pick out a pup. I didn't know about Lucius, so this will have to be a delayed Christmas this year", she apologized.

The day after that was a post-Christmas dinner at the Burrow. That meant Molly was up most of the night knitting a Weasley sweater for Marge.

At the end of the two weeks, Harry Portkeyed back to Beaux Batons for another long drag to spring.


	27. Buckbeak and the Executioner

**Buckbeak and the Executioner**

 _London: Ministry of Magic_

"You and Mr. Lupin claim to have seen Peter Pettigrew at the Burrow. Why didn't you contact this office, if you were so sure, Albus?"

Amelia Bones was interviewing Dumbledore on his claim to have seen Peter Pettigrew alive and well.

"It was purely a social call. We had no idea what we would find there. Remus recognized him after Ron brought him downstairs to show him off. Remus had seen his transformation before, back when they were still friends".

"And how did he escape?"

"He bit Ronald, who dropped him, and he ran off. You know how elusive rats, even real rats, can be. Once he hit the floor running, he dodged all our spells and ourselves. Disappeared down a hole, and he was gone".

"Why would he suspect anything? Aren't you and Remus frequent visitors?"

"He always stayed in Ronald's or Charles' rooms. This was the first time we actually saw him. We knew they had a pet rat, and I was a bit surprised at how old Scabbers was".

"He wasn't caged?"

"Not when Ronald brought him from his bedroom. Ron doesn't keep him caged all the time. Just when Scabbers is unsupervised".

"Are you telling me the whole story? Mr. Potter wasn't involved?"

"He wasn't there, so how could he be involved?"

"Don't you think it's an unlikely coincidence that you just happened to be visiting the one family who unknowingly harboured a multiple murderer? You know what I think of coincidences, Albus"

"Why would it be that unlikely? Pettigrew attaches himself to a wizarding family to keep up with the news, news he wouldn't receive if he became the pet of a muggle family".

"Why the Weasleys, though? Any magical family would suffice for that".

"Arthur was in the Order, maybe he figured he'd hear news of Voldemort? He would naturally be very interested, seeing how it would look to the Death Eaters. Voldemort goes to the Potter's cottage on Pettigrew's information only to face his own downfall. That looks like a set-up that went wrong, with the unintentional deaths of James and Lily, Voldemort is seemingly destroyed. I'm sure a lot of Death Eaters have a score to settle".

"Indeed they do, the ones in Azkaban say as much, what they'd like to do if they get their hands on Pettigrew", Amelia agreed. "Mr. Potter didn't put you up to this?"

"Certainly not, Madam Bones. It is as I have already stated, you will just have to trust me".

"That, Albus, is the _one_ thing I _do not_ have to do. I don't trust you, not at all".

"Then why would I lie? What would I have to gain? Other than seeing a possibly innocent man get his day in court to clear his name?"

"Why now, Albus? You had a very long time to try to correct that error, and yet you did nothing".

"There was no evidence until now. It was Sirius ' say-so and nothing more. I'm sure you're familiar with the case? It would be much worse for him if he were formally convicted, and that's the most likely outcome of any trial, absent any evidence".

"I'm sure I'm not getting the whole story here, but I will take everything I've heard under advisement".

"That's all I ask".

"Good day, Albus".

"Good day, Madam Bones".

Amelia knew she wasn't getting the whole truth here. Dumbledore's story matched that of the Weasley's, and Remus, but they had ample time to co-ordinate their testimony. The whole story was plausible enough, but that was Dumbledore: he could tell half truths with just enough credibility to deflect doubt. There was something more, something she wasn't being told as to how Pettigrew had been detected all these years after it was believed he died in the attempt to apprehend Sirius. All her instincts as an auror told her this, but there was no evidence.

 _Beaux Batons_

The Defense class had moved onto Red Caps. These were small, goblin-looking beings who lurked around battlefields, torture chambers and oubliettes, scenes of notorious crimes – anywhere where there had been violent bloodshed. They would waylay the unsuspecting, recreating those violent deaths.

Transfiguration lessons had moved on to turning white mice into crystal goblets.. When the class had mastered this, next was white rabbits into those fuzzy bunny slippers.

"I did it!", Hermione called out.

"Looking good", the instructor complemented, "try them on".

She slipped off the high heels, and slipped into the bunny slippers.

"Ow! Dammit! Dammit! Dammit!", she hopped on one foot, the slippers kicked off. "It bit me!"

"I think I've got it", Harry announced.

"Try them on".

Harry slipped on the slippers.

"How are they?"

"Kind of silly looking, I couldn't imagine actually wearing these, but they do feel nice and warm".

"No biting?"

"None".

"Well done"

January faded into February then into March. So far, nothing the least bit eventful. Home was fine, Petunia decided to volunteer at the Otter Trust for real. No problems at Hogwarts, other than the usual complaints about too much homework, and paradoxically, cabin fever. The never ending complaints about Professor Snape and his attitude, the ongoing farce that was Lockhart's DADA class.

 _Hogwarts: Care of Magical Creatures_

This day held the promises of spring. Clear, crisp, but not bone chilling cold, with only the gentlest trace of a breeze. A good day to be out after the gloomy days since the start of January.

"Gather roun", Hagrid called out, "today's lessin will be boud hippogryphs. Can innyone tell us boud 'em?"

"Despite the name, the hippogryph doesn't have anything to do with hippopotamuses. It's a type of gryphon, but instead of being part eagle and part lion, it's part eagle and horse", Luna answered.

"Quy rye, and ten points fer Slyth'rin".

He disappeared briefly, and returned with the very same creature Luna just described, as he led him into a paddock.

"Meet Buckbeak", Hagrid introduced, "Been raisin' him fer quy awhile, so's he's tame. The thing to remember bout hippogryphs is they are proud… proud and sensitive. Ye needs to 'pproach 'em juss rye. Never look 'em direkly in the eye, they take thah as a threat. Come up slowly, and when he turns to ye, bow beferr him. If he does the same, ye has been 'cepted, an' ye can get to know him better.

"Who'd like to go furst?"

"How about me?", Draco volunteered.

"Remember what I said"

Draco bowed as soon as Buckbeak noticed. Buckbeak returned the gesture.

"Very good! It looks like he likes ye. Thass rye, nice 'n' gentle".

Draco started stroking his beak. The hippogryph turned his head, and Draco scratched his feathery head.

"Ye wanna try ridin' him?"

Hagrid offered a leg up, and boosted Draco onto the hippogryph's back.

"Doan be pullin' on his feathers. He woan like thah".

"Then how'm I supposed to hold ONNNN..."

Buckbeak jumped the railing, took off at a gallop across the lawn, spread his wings, and took off. Draco had to hold on, legs only. Buckbeak soared over the castle's towers, then out over Black Lake, to circle back to Hagrid.

"Awesome!", Draco called out as he dismounted.

"Well done, and twenny points fer Slyth'rin. Innyone else?"

"If he can do it, I can do it", Ted Nott called out.

"Do just like Draco did", Hagrid reminded.

He bowed, Buckbeak bowed back, and Ted was scratching his head.

"You really are nothing but a dumb animal. No human should ever bow to an inferior..."

Maybe Buckbeak understood, and maybe he didn't, but he sure understood the attitude. He reared up, slashing with his eagle talons. Nott fell back, the unmelted snow turning red. He rolled around, holding his cut arm.

"Just you wait till Father hears about this! Your days at Hogwarts are over!", Nott threatened.

"MADAM POMPHREY TO THE PADDOCK!", Hagrid called out using the Sonorius amplification charm.

Madam Pomphrey and an assistant arrived directly. She took a look at the injury.

"That damn thing almost took my arm off!"

"Let's not be melodramatic, Mr. Nott, it's hardly worse than a scratch". Madam Pomphrey told him as she led him to the infirmary.

"You really should be more careful, Professor Hagrid", she reprimanded.

The owlpost Hagrid was dreading showed up at the cabin:

 _Dear Mr. Hagrid:_

 _The Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Wildlife informs you that it has been determined that your hippogryph poses an imminent threat of death and/or injury to humans. It is therefore our duty to inform you that a put down order has been issued. You will surrender said hippogryph within ten days._

 _If it is your intention to contest this order, we will need to hear from you within ten days of the date of this letter._

 _Alphonse Wormwood_

 _Chairman_

 _Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Wildlife_

 **0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF**

 _Beuax Batons_

 _Dear Harry:_

 _I have received some terrible news. There was an accident in class the other day, and now the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Wildlife wants to have Buckbeak put down. They say I can contest it, and I have Ginny and the rest of the Weasleys working on preparing a defense. I keep telling them not to neglect their school work, so they gave up all their free time. Percy's been down to the Ministry to see what he can do on that end._

 _I don't see how they could do this. I explained clearly to the class what they were supposed to do. Your friend, Draco, had no problems with him at all. Mr. Nott didn't do what I said, and he showed Buckbeak disrespect, which will set him off like nothing else. I explained that. How is it Buckbeak's fault if that asshat couldn't follow simple directions? Buckbeak is not dangerous. I've been living with him, so I would know, wouldn't I?_

 _Hope for the best for Buckbeak._

 _Your Friend,_

 _Hagrid_

"What do you have there?", Henri asked. "Anything wrong?" He noticed the expression.

"Just Hog-fucking-warts again"

"Harry?", Hermione over heard.

"See for yourself", as he handed over the parchment to let them read it for themselves.

"Oh Harry...", Hermione began.

"Oh Harry indeed. That place just _will not_ leave me alone. If it's not one thing, it's another. Bane of my existence. If it's not trolls in the loo, it's possessed professors, and if it's not that, then it's possessed dairies, or chambers of secrets, or one damn thing after another, after another, and on and on it goes".

"It doesn't look too bad", Henri said. "Hagrid explains what happened and the matter's settled. It's not like he took this Nott's head off or gutted him… Wish we had a professor like Hagrid. Having a hippogryph in class would be cool, especailly if we could ride him".

"Unforch, he brings this shit on himself. He can't understand that not everyone works with his 'critters' as well as he does", Harry explained.

"What can we do?", Hermione asked.

"Hope Ginny and the others come up with something. McGonagall should be doing this, not Ginny and the kids. I was hoping, but it looks like she's every bit as incompetent as Dumbledore was".

"Maybe she is", Hermione said.

"If she were, I'm sure Hagrid would have mentioned it".

 _Dear Hagrid:_

 _Just be thankful the magical world does things differently. In the muggle world, animals deemed dangerous are put down right away. The only "due process" is shoot on sight, no questions asked. Even pet owners have little to no recourse if their dog, for example, bites someone, even if it was justified._

 _I'm sure Ginny will come up with something. It might also be a good idea to arrange to call the other students in the class as witnesses. If Nott really didn't follow directions, then it was all his fault._

 _Do you really think it's such a good idea? Using critters like that in class? Wouldn't want to see you lose the Professorship._

 _Keeping good thoughts._

 _Your friend,_

 _Harry_

Harry wrote back during the afternoon break, and sent it from the campus owlery.

"Listen up", Veronique announced. "Granger, you get your chance as our regular Keeper caught a bug, and isn't able to play".

It was a Quiddich Saturday, South v. West. Most of the students turned out at the Quiddich pitch. The team captains shook hands, and the balls were released. Hermione took her place in front of the goal posts.

It looked to be a disaster in the making, as Hermione let quaffle after quaffle sail through the hoops. South was down 120 to 10.

"C'mon Hermione!", Harry called out encouragement, "you can do it!"

Then, she found her groove and South was gaining: 120 : 30, 120 : 50, and not a single quaffle got through. One last minute save saw Hermione flip her broom 180 degrees to bat the quaffle away with the bristles of the broom.

"Wow! Granger is really on fire!", came the commentary from the announcer's booth.

A little while later:

"Marguerite has the Snitch! South wins: 230 : 120!"

"I knew you could do it", Harry congratulated after the game.

"A rough start", she said, "and then it was like everything just clicked all at once".

"Being in the zone", Harry explained. "Same for me sometimes".

 **0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF**

Harry spent the afternoon break in the computer lab to assist Alessandra with her muggle studies class, neither he nor Hermione took. Beaux Batons had a computer lab that was shielded against the magical fields. The school's philosophy was to give all its wizarding students a full understanding of muggle ways.

Muggle Studies at Hogwarts was as much of a joke as Divination. Charity Burbage did her best, but how can you really teach what you don't understand? The only British magus Harry knew of who really understood muggle-tech was Arthur Weasley. Even a simple telephone flummoxed most British magi. (Harry recalled that time a Hogwarts fellow referred to a telephone as a "fellytone") Their lack of knowledge of muggle-tech was exceeded only by their lack of fashion sense. Magi tended to stick out like sore thumbs on those occasions they were out and about with muggles.

"One thing you're doing wrong", Harry explained, "is you're mixing up your O's and zeros".

"It makes a difference?"

"They may look alike, but your computer doesn't know which you mean. It does exactly, and only, what you tell it do do. It can't make assumptions for you".

She was working on a simple BASIC program to fill in magic squares.

"You forgot to declare your array with the 'dim' keyword, It's not 'dimension' - that's FORTRAN, not BASIC. It's always a good idea to initialize all the elements with zeros, you can change them later. That way, you'll always know how large your arrays are so you won't cause a SEGFAULT".

"I got it!", she said after correcting her typos. "Thanks much, 'Arry"

"Any time"

The next morning, the owls dropped a letter at Harry's place at the table.

"I knew it! I knew it! I knew it! (Fuck!)"

"What is it?", Hermione asked.

He handed her the letter. The parchment was stained with large tear drops that smeared some of the letters.

 _Dear Harry and Hermione:_

 _We lost. It was all my fault. When I appeared before the Committee, it was too intimidating, with the whole committee in those black robes. I got all tongue-tied, kept dropping my notes, I forgot about half of what I was supposed to say. I let Buckbeak down; I let the kids down after they worked so hard. They're gonna do it, cut off his head. Nothing more I can do except to make his last days happy ones. I'm keeping him in the pumpkin patch, let him see the trees, smell the fresh air. I don't know, but he seems to know something's up. Can't fool him. Not that one. They scheduled the execution for sundown, the seventeenth. I'll be with him, so at least he'll see a friendly face before he… ummmmm… they do it._

 _Hagrid_

"That's today!", Hermione noted the obvious. "Poor Hagrid, it's like losing a child for him".

"Tell me about it. It's not easy, owl posts across the Channel".

"What can we do?"

"Nothing other than owl him our condolences".

They went to class, but weren't concentrating on the work.

At the noon break, Harry was able to catch up with Fleur, the upper classman and captain of Harry's Quiddich team.

"I need a _mega_ -favor", he explained.

"Is this about practice?", she asked.

"In a way...", they had an evening practice scheduled.

"If it's about..."

"No, not that".

Fleur Delacourt, the tall, platinum blond, was part-veela who attracted the opposite sex. Males hit on her all the time. Harry had to concentrate extra hard to stay on topic.

"It's my friend, Hagrid", he handed her the letter about Buckbeak.

"I'm very sorry, but vhat can I do to 'elp?"

"You have your apparition license..."

"I just got it, oui".

"What I need is to get to Hogwarts..."

"'Ogwarts 'as anti-apparition defenses, no?"

"They do, but I don't need to get to Hogwarts itself. I need to get to Hogsmeade. From there, I can get onto the campus. Here, let me show you". Harry checked out an atlas of Magical Britain from the library. "Hogsmeade is here, if you could land us just outside of town, right about here".

"What if muggles see?"

"There are no muggles living in Hogsmeade, no connections to roads and highways, just the Hogwarts Express station. Other forms of travel are apparition, brooms, and portkeys".

"Still, a very long way".

"Can you do it?"

"Longer than I 'ave attempted, though that shouldn't matter. Vill you get in trouble?"

"Probably, it's a habit"

"Let me think about it".

"I'd appreciate it, and I _know_ Hagrid will as well".

"Vhat can you do?"

"I have a plan in mind. If it works, we save an innocent life".

"I let you know after classes. Meet me outside the, how you say, Perimeter".

"I'll _really_ appreciate it".

"No way I'm not going too", Hermione said after he told her the plan.

"I don't know if Fleur can take the both of us".

Harry and Hermione met up with Fleur just outside the Perimeter. This would mean skipping dinner, and hopefully, they wouldn't get into such trouble as they weren't skiving.

"I have to go", Hermione made her case, "after all, Hagrid is my friend too. I know he'd appreciate my being there for him".

"I never tried taking two before", Fleur said. "Ell, not even one".

"Could you please try?", Hermione begged.

"Very vell, take my 'ands and whirl with me. On the count of three…

"Vun… two… three!"

Hermione landed on her butt. Harry and Fleur kept their feet. They looked around: this was the outskirts of Hogsmeade. They'd been seen, but no one took any special notice, as apparition was one of the few ways to get to Hogsmeand.

Harry helped Hermione up: "We're cutting it a bit close", as he took notice of how low the sun was against the sky. At least the highland weather was co-operating. It wasn't too cold, and the sky clear.

"Now vhere?", Fleur asked.

"You can go back", Harry said, "no sense in all of us getting in trouble with Madam Maxime".

"'Ow do you British say? In for a penny, in for a pound? I'd also like to see 'Ogwarts, only heard stories about it".

"This way", Harry said as he pointed out what looked like a long abandoned shack sitting at the summit of a low hill. A packed earth path led up the hill, and to a rusty wrought iron fence. The yard long since reclaimed by nature, all the windows boarded up. The paint peeling. It definitely looked like there hadn't been anyone home for decades.

"The Shrieking Shack", Harry explained. "Some say it's the most haunted house in all of the UK. That's the rumour, but it isn't true. This friend of my father's, Remus Lupin, used it as his hide away during monthly transformations..."

"Monthly transformations?", Fleur asked.

"Yes, he's a werewolf, and he would come here while he attended Hogwarts. Dumbledore, our former Headmaster, arranged it for him. There's a passageway directly onto Hogwarts' grounds".

"And this Dumbledore let 'im in?"

"He's a real nice guy. I know him, and other than his furry problem, he's about as normal as anyone you'd ever meet. Before I came to Beaux Batons, he was giving me lessons in Defense".

Harry lifted the latch and opened the gate on stiff, creaky, corroded hinges. The weathered front porch steps groaned under their weight.

"Alohomorah", and the front door unlocked.

"Anyone here?", Harry called out. "Last chance: we're coming in".

"'Vhat vas that about?", Fleur asked.

"It isn't exactly a secret anymore, and lots of students come this way to sneak into Hogsmeade if they don't have parental permissions, or Firsties who aren't allowed off campus. Some use the Shrieking Shack for… ummmmm… assignations".

The first room they entered had old, yellowed, fading paper peeling off the walls, the furniture, still covered, everything with a thick layer of dust, other than paths cleared by passing feet.

The passage into Hogwarts was under a trap door that opened to reveal steps leading down into darkness.

"Lumos", they lit their wands.

The tunnel was cramped, and so they had to walk stooped, Fleur nearly bent in half. The passageway wound down, and then gradually ascended, then a light appeared: the exit.

"Nox", Harry put out the light. He stuck his head out, spotted the knothole, and pressed it. "You can come out now".

The exit was concealed among the roots of a large willow.

"A Whomping Willow Dumbledore had planted the year Remus started. If you're not careful, it'll give you a real beating. Unless you know the secret, you're not getting down there".

They could see Hagrid's cabin from where they were. Looking towards the castle, they could see no one out and about. That was good, and unexpected. Harry figured the students had been ordered back to their dorms for the execution. They had to take off their high heels to cross the lawn while skirting the edge of the Forbidden Forest. Only the tree tops were in direct sunlight, as shadow was settling in.

Harry lifted the door knocker, letting it drop. A dog barked inside.

"Fang shaddup! Go away!"

"Hagrid, it's us, Harry and Hermione: open up".

Hagrid, eyes red and puffy, opened the front door, to Fleur's surprise. The only one she knew as large was Madam Maxime.

"Ye shouldn'a come here".

"Can we come in? Fleur Delacourt, a friend from Beaux Batons", Harry introduced.

"The pleasure's mine Monsieur 'Agrid", she offered a hand that disappeared inside Hagrid's ham sized handshake.

Hagrid was all cried-out. He looked like a man who didn't know where he was, or what he was supposed to do. Nor did he throw himself on their shoulders. In a way, this was even worse, this absolute helplessness, the resignation of all hope.

"Ye keeds, ye shouldn'a come here. I doan want ye seein' this… when they… do it... Wan some tea?"

His hands shook as he reached for the kettle. His hand trembled so violently that he lost his grip on the milk jug, which shattered on the floor.

"Let me do that", Hermione offered.

"There's anudder in thuh cupboard", he said as he sat at the table, wiping his forehead with his sleeve.

Silent tears flowed down Hermione's cheeks as she bustled about, preparing tea.

"Dumblederr say he comin' to be with me when… it happens. Got the letter this mornin'. Said he wants ter be with me. Promised it'll be quick and clean. Great man… Dumblederr.".

"Listen up", Harry started, "'It' (finger quotes) isn't happening..."

"Dere's _nuttin'_ ter be done Harry! We tried, Dumblederr tried..."

"Shut up and pay attention, we don't have a whole helluvalot of time here. I need you to go along, see, just follow my lead.

"Fleur: if anyone asks you anything, forget you know a word of English.

"Hermione, keep the water works going".

"Whuh ye on aboud? Ain't nuttin we ain't tried, even Dumblederr said..."

"No time to explain".

Harry slipped his wand up the sleeve of his jacket.

They could see the sky to the west turning crimson, to the east, a clear purple. They could see four men coming down the steps in front of the castle. One, a very ancient wizard, the other Dumbledore, and the third a tall, strapping wizard wearing a Medieval executioner's costume. He was carrying a large, curved headman's axe. There was another: Minister Fudge. What was he doing here?

The door knocker dropped after the sound of feet on the porch. Hagrid went to answer.

The oldest wizard officially read the put-down order.

"Might as well get this over with", Fudge said. "I have some business with Albus, and he insisted on coming for his friend and professor, not that I want to see the poor animal put down. So sorry, Hagrid".

"I unnerstan… Tankee for comin', Minister Fudge".

"Not so fast", Harry interrupted, "may I see that?"

"Who? What are these girls doing here?" Fudge started before recognition set in, "Harry? Harry Potter? Why… are _you_ here?"

"Just looking after a friend in a time of need".

"You still have no business being here at all".

"I'm here in my capacity as Lord Gaunt. Fleur Delacourt and Hernione are my guests".

Harry was handed the order: "Says here you need two witnesses, and that the executioner should sign". For once, Harry was grateful for the wizarding world's Medieval ways.

"For Merlin's sake, it's just an animal", the executioner objected. "So what if all the i's aren't dotted and the t's not crossed?"

"Due process needs to be done right".

"Fine, I'll sign".

Fudge produced a self inking quill: "Walden MacNair", the executioner signed his name.

"As for witnesses, you have me", Fudge reminded, "and Dumbledore".

"Alas, Mr. Minister, I decline to take part in this. I'm here strictly for my Care of Magical Creatures professor. I shall remain here with the girls".

"Then you", he pointed to the platinum blond who was old enough, unlike Hermione.

"Je suis désolé je ne parle pas Anglais"

"Then you, Lord Gaunt", as he held out the quill.

"Ye canna do this, Harry", Hagrid objected. "I thought ye whirr my frien".

"Better to get this over with now. They'll just get someone else if I don't sign it. The waiting will just make it that much worse".

"Harry, you really shouldn't be seeing this, especially not at your age", Dumbledore objected.

"I'll be there for Hagrid, no matter what you say".

" _Now_ can we get on with it?", MacNair insisted testily.

Hagrid, Cornelius, and Harry left the cabin. Buckbeak knew something was up as he tossed his head one way, then another, as though looking for an unseen danger. Hagrid untied the rope and led Buckbeak into the center of his pumpkin patch, up to the block MacNair conjured. Harry let his wand slip into his hand, keeping it against his body, so no one would notice. Dumbledore, Fudge, and the official from the Committee on the Disposal of Dangerous Wildlife stood by.

"Juss make it quick", he said, as he kneeled before the hippogryph. Buckbeak did the same, laying his neck across the block. MacNair raised his axe; Hagrid made ready to catch his severed head,

"Expelliarmus!", Harry cast the charm with such force that MacNair went flying, crashing to the ground ten feet away. Harry caught the axe on the fly.

"Potter!", Fudge called out. " _What is the meaning of this_?! You just assaulted an Officer of the Court! This means Azkaban!"

"Then I suggest you call the aurors, you're gonna need 'em".

"You little whelp!", a very pissed off MacNair was coming at him.

With that, Harry pointed his wand to the sky. He didn't say an incantation they recognized, just made a guttural hissing sound. MacNair immediately grabbed his left arm. At first, they thought heart attack, but he was gripping his forearm.

"What... did you... do to me?! You're not..."

Dumbledore, Fleur, and Hermione came out to see what was going on.

"Harry?", Dumbledore started.

"I'm not your Dark Lord, is that what you were about to say? Judging by that get-up, you like to kill, don't you? Really get off on it, don't you?"

"No… it's… just...", the agony in his arm cut off his words.

"Let's try that again. The more you lie, the more it hurts. You enjoy killing?"

"Yes! I enjoy it".

"Better now? How about humans? You like killing them too?"

"No! How could you… think…"

"Mr. Potter! I must insist you stop what you're doing: you're torturing that man!", Fudge objected.

"I'm not doing it: he's doing it to himself. All I did was activate his Dark Mark. This is how Voldemort controls his minions. The more he lies, the greater the pain", Harry explained to Minister Fudge.

"So, Walden, you like killing people?"

"No..."

"That must be coming close to Cruciatus pain".

"OK! OK! I admit it!"

"How many have you murdered?"

"I… don't know"

"Was it more than ten?"

"Yes!"

"More than twenty?"

"Yes!"

"How many?"

"I don't know, honestly, maybe around fifty"

"Including muggles?"

"Yes!"

"And Muggle children?"

"Yes!"

"And did you molest those muggle children before you killed them?"

"Yes! Yes! _Damn you,_ yes!"

"You took the Dark Mark of your own freewill, didn't you? None of you were under the Imperious were you?"

"Yes, I took it willingly. We all did".

Harry cast the disarming charm in Parseltongue. Then he hit MacNair with the Body Bind.

"Mr. Minister, Mr. Dumbledore: you just heard this piece of shit confess to so many murders he lost count by his own admission. I ask you: how is justice better served: seeing he gets what he's so richly earned for himself, or putting down an innocent animal just because the son of one of MacNair's people couldn't follow simple instructions and caused his own injuries?"

"I'm getting way too old for this", Alphonse Wormwood took out his wand and the put-down order flashed to flame, leaving behind not a single trace, not even smoke. "Consider that my resignation, Mr. Minister. As for Mr Hagrid and his hippogryph, there are no put-down orders that I know of. No need to senselessly kill a harmless animal".

"I leave it up to you, Mr. Minister, whose crime here is the most serious? Mine for attacking this bit of slime, or what he did, what he's very likely still doing?"

"Well… I… ummmm… concerning the hippogryph, if there's no order, we can't put him down, can we? As for Mr. Potter, I think it best if we overlook this… As for MacNair, you can't use confessions made under duress..."

"I told him everything he wanted to hear, I'd've said _anything_ to make him stop...", MacNair tried deflecting guilt.

"Maybe not, but it sure does mean probable cause to have a search warrant sworn out. I'm sure the aurors will find more than enough evidence".

Amelia Bones and her aurors arrived to hear what happened from the Minister and Wormwood.

"Mr Potter", she began, "why am I not surprised? We have a problem here, you tortured a confession out of Mr. MacNair. That's a serious offense".

"In the first place, I did no such thing. I cast the spell that activates the Dark Mark. I'd guess every Death Eater within a radius of a mile felt their Mark burn. That's how the Dark Lord kept his followers honest. The Mark burns hotter with every lie told. He was torturing himself with every lie he told".

"I took the Mark under the Imperious Curse, so I didn't have a choice", MacNair told the same tale as after the wizarding war.

"Do you know what the Dark Mark is, Madam Bones?"

"It's the insignia of the Dark Lord, used to brand his followers. Another version is cast into the sky".

"On a very superficial level, yes. If you study it closer, you'll find it's a variation on the Protean Charm: soul magic. Soul magic never works on the unwilling. The Dark Mark is controlled by spells that must be cast in Parseltongue, which I speak, as did the Dark Lord. MacNair here is lying when he says he didn't take that Mark with full awareness and consent. He, and every other Death Eater, knew what they were doing. We heard this bastard confess to multiple murders, murders he committed, knowing full well what he was doing at the time".

"Arrest him", Bones ordered. "Take him to Azkaban".

"If what you're saying is true, then it won't count as a confession extracted by torture. You still have a lot of explaining to do, Mr. Potter".

"Then I won't be going back to Beaux Batons right away".

"No, you won't".

"How about Fleur and Hermione?"

"They already told us what they know, I see no reason to detain them any longer".

"We really should be getting back", Hermione said. "You be alright, Harry?"

"I'll be fine. I just hope Madam Maxime feels the same way".

"How will you go?", Bones asked.

"We'll apparate from Hogsmeade", Hermione explained. "We'll explain to Madam for you".

"'Preciate it".

"I could do with a spot of tea", Amelia announced.

"Or a brandy", Hagrid suggested.

"Or something to eat", Harry suggested.

"Then I take it you'll be interviewing Mr. Potter here?", Dumbledore asked.

"Here is as good as anywhere".

"Then I'll leave you to it. Mr. Minister?", Dumbledore invited him to go with him.

"We'll leave the matter in your capable hands, Amelia", Cornelius agreed.

"I juss wanted ter say tankee fer all ye did", Hagrid said. "I thought he was a gonner fer shir".

Buckbeak chirped as Hagrid led him into the cabin: "C'mon, that whirr a close call.

"Buckbeak says 'Tankee' too".

"You're both quite welcome", Harry said.

Buckbeak curled by the fireplace as Harry, Amelia, and Hagrid sat around the table. He had the house elves bring some sandwiches and soup.

"I think we can overlook some underage drinkin'", as Hagrid poured two normal portions of brandy, and one large tankard full for himself.

"How do you know how to control those Dark Marks?", Bones asked.

"I have an associate who's been studying it now for awhile. It was he who discovered the true nature of the Dark Mark, and that it only responds to Parseltongue".

"And who might this be? The same one who's been helping you all along?"

"He is".

"I will need to talk to him".

"I'm afraid that's not possible".

"Was it Malfoy?"

"No, Lucius is the go-between. I can't name this individual. You don't need him to prove the true nature of the Dark Mark, I've given you a very specific clue. The DMLE can figure it out. For all I know, the Unspeakables might have already".

"Are you working for an Unspeakable? Is it, perhaps, a Death Eater who truly wants to reform?"

"No comment"

Let her think he was working for the Unspeakables, he thought to himself. That was one good way to deflect her attention, less chance of finding out about Lucius Lutra. Bones wouldn't be grilling any Unspeakables. He wondered why he hadn't thought of this before.

"It's going to come out sooner or later, Mr. Potter. I will have to interview this associate of yours".

"When he believes the time is right, he will come forward, however, now isn't that time".

"Of all the people, why you?"

"I have no idea. Maybe it had something to do with my parents? Something to do with the old Order they were involved in? Something to do with that prophecy I mentioned once?"

"Souns like they're keeping ye busy?", Hagrid said.

"Way too busy for my liking. I never wanted to be the Boy Who Lived. I never liked it when random wierdos would pump my hand when I was out and about. That was going on long before I ever heard of Hogwarts. I don't appreciate having fantastic bullshit written about me".

"You certainly have an unusual circle of friends", Bones said, "I'd still like to know who they are, and more importantly, just what their motive is. You've been playing games with me, and I don't like games".

"I don't know myself, not fully. I'm just another playing piece on the board too".

It was too late to return to Beaux Batons.

"I can put you up for the night", McGonagall said, "you can have your old dorm in the dungeons".

"All things considered, I'd rather not".

"We have vacancies in Gryffindor Tower"

"That would be fine".

"Harry, you're back?", Neville asked as soon as McGonagall let him past the Fat Lady who guarded the entrance to the Common Room.

" _Haaaaarrrry!_ ", the Twins greeted.

"You're a Lion now?", Ron asked. "What's with the girly clothes? You haven't gone Trans?", Ron asked.

"It's just for tonight, too late to go back to Beaux Batons".

"Do they run around like chickens after you cut off their heads?", Fred asked.

"McGonagall ordered everyone to their dorms when the Ministry officials arrived", George finished the explanation. "Locked us down for the duration".

"Give us all the gory details", Fred requested.

"I wouldn't know because they didn't chop off Buckbeak's head. You'll hear all about it soon enough, if not from the _Prophet_ , then Peeves'll be on his job of spreading rumours. They sent MacNair the Death Eater to do it. After I got done with him, his confessions of over 50 murders pretty much made Fudge forget all about Buckbeak".

"No… shit?", Fred and George asked.

"None whatsoever".

"I can lend you an extra pair of Pj's", Ron offered.

"Thanks", Harry replied.

 _MacNair Manor_

Amelia Bones and her aurors were conducting a search of the premises. One blew the door off its hinges with a curse, and a dozen swarmed in, wands drawn. Amelia waited outside with Dawlish. Minutes passed, then one of the youngest aurors, fresh out of training, stumbled out the door. Ar first, Bones and Dawlish thought he'd been attacked. He dropped to all fours, and threw up on the lawn.

"What happened?", Bones asked.

"Don't go in there", he rasped. "It's… it's… _horrible!_ "

Bones disappeared through the front door. She soon discovered why her auror was puking all over the lawn. A shelf stacked with jars and jars, all carefully labeled with dates, all containing the fingers of his victims, preserved in a potion. Many the tiny fingers of muggle children. Some jars contained penises and uteruses. Some jars held the heads of infants.

"Ma'am", Williamson called out, "you'd better see this".

He led her to a hidden chamber in the cellar. A torture chamber fitted with all the usual Medieval torture devices, all kid-sized. The more fortunate were hanged by wire nooses on a gallows.

"Gather all the evidence. Who knows what we'll find on the grounds".

Amelia Bones wasn't looking so well as she left the manor.

MacNair's trial was before the Wizengamot where it was proved he wasn't under any Imperious when he took Voldemort's Dark Mark. He named names under Veritas potion. The evidence was shared with Scotland Yard where dozens of cold case files were finally solved, families long awaiting news as to what happened to their missing children finally received the bad news. The closure being a very small consolation.

As for MacNair, the Wizengamot decided to send him to Azkaban for the Dementor's Kiss. Then he was handed over to the muggle authorities, the cover story being that he'd suffered a stroke. That's how the gruesome discoveries were made: a concerned neighbor calling the police to check up on him after not seeing him for three days. When the police arrived, they found MacNair like that.

The anti-climax being that MacNair was judged unfit to stand trial, and was remanded to a psychiatric facility for the criminally insane where he would spend the rest of his days as a catatonic, soulless shell of a man.


	28. Quiddich World Cup Summer

**Quidditch World Cup Summer**

 _Beaux Batons_

Madam Maxime was meeting with Harry, Hermione, and Fleur. She looked over the top of the letter Madam Bones sent.

"Mr. Potter, vhat am I to do vith you? If 'Ogwarts still means so much to you, vhy don't you ask your parents to enroll you there?"

"What would you have me do? Ignore Hagrid's letter? Just let Buckbuck die when I knew how to prevent it?"

"Vhy didn't you come to see me first? Vhere you so convinced I vould not approve?"

"I received the letter just in the nick of time. We barely got there ahead of the Ministry's executioner".

"Vhat did you do at 'Ogwarts?"

"It will be coming out in the news soon, until then, I can't talk about it".

"I see… You can go".

Harry and the others made to leave too.

"Not you, 'Ermione and Fleur. I am not done vith you".

"Ma'am?", Hermione asked.

"The both of you left campus vithout permission. This is not allowed, and you vill be in detention for the rest of the term. I am responsible, and vhat am I to say 'ad you come to a bad end?"

"Yes, Ma'am", Hermione said.

"Vhat about Quiddich?", Fleur asked.

"No Quiddich for either of you until your detentions are complete".

"Yes, Ma'am"

"I'm team captain...", Fluer began to protest.

"Appoint a successor".

"Yes, Ma'am"

 _Outside Ottery St Mary_

Peter Pettigrew had a rough time after his narrow escape from the Burrow. Rats were hibernating in their dens. He was out in the cold, standing out in sharp relief against the white snow, an open invitation to become a fox's or owl's next meal. He dare not show his face in human form, not so close to the scene of the crime. Of that, he had no doubt. It was bad enough, knowing that he'd lost his ace in the hole: his being an unregistered animagus.

He spent most of his time hiding in muggle homes and businesses in Ottery St Catchpole. Still, mouldy cheese from rat traps, not as satisfying as the rodent pellets Ron fed him (not that these were so wonderful). Sometimes, he'd get lucky and find unguarded bags of pet food in basements, kitchens, and cupboards. He knew he couldn't hang around too long, however, as the people living there would suspect they had a rat problem. Warmer weather meant moving on, he followed the Otter River to the coast. There, hitched a ride across the Channel to the Continent. He still dare not transform, even here. Next, it was a matter of finding lorries headed east.

 _London: Knockturn Alley:_

Albus stopped by one of the street vendors who were a common sight here. He hoped his being here would not be mentioned, because there was no chance he wouldn't be noticed.

"Hello Mundungus", he greeted, "I've been looking for you".

"What brings you to around here? Mefinks dis ain no social call?"

"No, Mundungus, it's not", Albus explained.

"I was afeared o' dat", he said. "Whass dis gonna coss me?"

"Nothing more than your time, and you shall be well compensated for your service. More lucrative than selling stolen goods..."

"I ain stole nuttin'! Awl dese goods're legit!"

"I'm sure that's the official story, but I'm not here on behalf of the DMLE. I need _your_ special kind of expertise".

"I ain signin' on fer nuttin that'll get me killt, is I?"

"Nothing like that, walk with me and I shall explain everything".

Mundungus Fletcher was a petty criminal who made his living hawking items acquired by means not exactly legal. Albus had once saved him from doing a number in Azkaban, and recruited him into the Order as one who moved in the circles the more respectable members could not, who would hear news of Voldemort the others did not.

 _London: Ministry of Magic_

Walden MacNair named his associates under veritas, detailing the crimes they'd committed for Voldemort. Amelia Bones arranged for a sweep of arrests of the named suspects. A special session of the Wizengamot met in the Old Courtroom in the sub-basement where the lifts didn't reach. It was her desire to keep these proceedings as quiet as possible for as long as possible.

Edmond Parkinson had been picked up right at the Ministry. Two aurors showed up at his office, requesting they come with him. Before the Wizengamot, he was defiant.

"Are you a Death Eater?", he was asked after the administration of veritas potion.

"Of course I am! I have always been a faithful servant of the Dark Lord, and damn proud of it! Just who the hell are you to judge me? We were working on your behalf so that we magi can take our rightful places in this world as the superiors of these muggles. No more hiding in the shadows".

"That's quite enough. Your name has come up in connection with a murder investigation. Have you ever committed murder in the service of Hewhomustnotbenamed?"

"Show some respect and refer to our Dark Lord. Yes, that's how you earn his Dark Mark: you have to make your bones, show you will hold back nothing in his service. We were paid a bounty of 1,000 galleons for every muggle carcass we turned over to the Dark Lord".

"For what purpose?"

"He never said and we never asked. That's how I paid my daughter's way through Hogwarts".

"You have no regrets, no remorse?"

"Why should I? It was for our Dark Lord".

"Who were your associates?"

One name stood out: Lucius Malfoy.

"One final question: did you take the Dark Mark willingly?"

"Of course I did"

"Edmond Parkinson, you will be remanded to your cell while the Wizengamot deliberates.

"Bring in the next prisoner", Cornelius Fudge, acting justice called out.

"Lucius Malfoy, take the stand", the bailiff announced.

"I protest this treatment, being dragged out of my own bed in the middle of the night".

"Your protest is duly noted, Mr. Malfoy, if you would? We can do this the easy way, or the hard way", Cornelius Fudge said.

"Fine", he said as he took the seat facing the Wizengamot.

"If you please", another bailiff brought a silver tray with a crystal wine glass, and a large glass of water. He swallowed the horrible tasting veritas potion in one gulp, and washed it down with the water.

It must've been an unusually stiff does, as Lucius became barely aware of his surroundings. No way to resist.

"Would you state your name for the record".

"Lucius Abraxas Malfoy".

"Let's cut to the chase, are you a Death Eater?"

"No".

There was much buzz around the Chamber.

"If I may", Madam Bones interrupted the special councilor.

"I yield to Madam Bones".

"Are you aware that veritas has an antidote?"

"Of course, it's hardly a secret".

"Do you have any in your possession?"

"No, but you would expect that answer if I had taken it".

"There are blood tests", she reminded. "Would you roll up your sleeves?"

He did so, and the buzz increased in volume. There was no trace of the Dark Mark. Some stood to get a better view, but it was the same: no Dark Mark.

"Do you know any spell that can remove the Dark Mark?"

"No". This was a literal truth since he didn't speak Otterish. That question came dangerously close to the truth though. "No one does, otherwise a lot of the Dark Lord's followers would have gotten rid of theirs, wouldn't they?"

"Why do you refer to Hewhomustnotbenamed as 'Dark Lord'? Isn't that what his followers call him as a sign of respect?"

"It's just how I speak".

"Do you have some sympathies with Voldemort?"

"Yes, of course I do".

"And what may those be?"

"I believe it is vital to preserve our pure blood lines to preserve our traditions, our culture, and our way of life".

"Even though you admitted that the muggle-borm Hermione Granger is as capable as any pure blood magician?"

"Yes, Miss Granger will also bring with her her muggle ways. How could she not? This is why I believe only those of pure blood should be running our government".

"If you feel that way, then why didn't you join Voldemort?"

"There is a right way, and a wrong way, and Voldemort's way was wrong. He wanted the complete subjugation of the muggle population. Let muggles go their way, and let us go ours. It's worked ever since the Secrecy Statute passed three hundred years ago. I see no reason why we can't go on living side-by-side".

"Have you financially supported Voldemort's efforts?"

"I have not".

"Yet, during our interrogations, your name keeps coming up, over and over: care to explain?"

"I would only be speculating".

"Proceed"

"Maybe because of my wife's sister, Bellatrix Lastrange. You won't find a more fanatical supporter. Maybe it's because Voldemort's followers were always asking for support, politically as well as financially, because I almost took the Dark Mark. Other than that, I have no idea".

"Have you ever committed a murder, or any other crime to further Voldemort's rise to power?"

"I have not".

"You have been seen in the company of known Death Eaters. The row Christmas before last with Edmond Parkinson, what was that about?"

"So have lots of others. It's unavoidable, there are many employees of the Ministry who have been cleared of any wrong-doing after taking the Dark Mark.

"Edmond accused me of betraying Voldemort. I reminded him that there's no betrayal if there never was any support in the first place. He got unnecessarily unpleasant about it, so I asked him to leave, which he did".

"What else did he want?"

"He wanted some book Bellatrix once had and left to me before she went off to Azkaban".

"What book?"

"I don't recall exactly, just some rather plain, unremarkable black leather book, so I gave it to him. That's all".

"This book: might it have been a diary?"

"Could have been, I don't remember as I hadn't taken a close look at it in years. I forgot I even had it".

"Care to explain why you've been acting so guilty all these years?"

"How do you mean?"

"Why, up till now, have you been so evasive about Voldemort and your involvement with the Death Eaters?"

"That matter was settled a long time ago, so why would I dignify these baseless accusations by answering them?"

"It wasn't really settled, was it? You never testified in a court of law".

"It was to my satisfaction".

One of the Potions Specialists from the Auror Corps: "I need a few drops of blood", as he had a stick pin. He pricked Malfoy's finger, squeezed out a few drops onto parchment. He added a drop of potion, and waited.

"I detect no trace of the antidote. Mr. Malfoy is well under the effects of veritas".

"Thank you, that will be all", Fudge announced. "You will be remanded to your cell while the Wizengamot deliberates".

 _4 Privet Drive_

"All packed?", Vernon asked.

"I can't think of anything else", Harry said.

"Me neither", Dudley agreed.

"Then let's be off to Heathrow. Don't want to miss our flight".

"What about Hedwig?", Dudley asked.

"I've sent him over to the Burrow. Arthur and Molly will look after him while we're gone. He wasn't too happy about that, but he understands. I'm not expecting I'll be receiving any owlposts. I can send back pictures and post cards after we're home".

This year, Vernon and Petunia decided to take their holiday in Majorca between the time Harry and Dudley left school for the summer, and before Harry's summer school started. The summer was getting off to a good start, Harry had received word from Amelia Bones that his godfather would be getting the trial he'd been owed for almost as long as Harry had been alive.

 _London: Ministry of Magic_

"All rise, the Wizengamot is now in session"

"Defendant Malfoy", Fudge began, "it has been decided that there is no basis for conviction. You are free to go. I will remind you once again, that you are not to discuss these proceedings with outsiders under penalty of law".

"I understand".

"Your wand and personal effects will be waiting for you at the security kiosk".

It had been a close decision. There were all those claims by other Death Eaters that Lucius Malfoy had been one of their number, that he had been well within the Dark Lord's inner circle, that he had participated in their crimes. However, the evidence was incontrovertible: he did not wear the Dark Mark, he had proclaimed his innocence while undoubtedly under the influence of veritas potion, he had not somehow taken the antidote.

He was thankful that Madam Bones had not asked the right questions, such as if he knew about spells that could remove the Dark Mark. He would have had to answer in the affirmative, and likely explain the reversal spell needed to be cast in Otterish, not any human language.

The nine other defendants weren't so fortunate,

"After considering all relevant evidence and testimony, we find you guilty as charged. It is the judgment of the Wizengamot that you be taken to the Death Chamber to be sent trough the Veil".

The Death Chamber was one part of the Department of Mysteries, overseen by the Unspeakables. The Death Chamber was a large auditorium with stone bleachers rising tier upon tier up to about six meters above a central stone dais. The only feature in the center of the room was an ancient stone pointed arch, so cracked and crumbly that it was a miracle it stood at all. A black curtain covered the opening. This curtain constantly fluttered as though with a gentle breeze, though the air was still and a bit stagnant. This chamber was dedicated to the study of the mystery of death. It was said that sometimes some people could hear indistinct voices on the other side of the veil, which separated the land of the living and the dead.

The Ministry didn't have capital punishment, at least not officially. Sending the guilty prisoners through the veil wasn't exactly considered execution, per se. It was, however, a one-way trip. Edmond Parkinson was one of the few who went through on his own two feet.

"When the Dark Lord returns, I shall be avenged! You will regret you ever dared raise a hand against his devoted followers. When he gets his hands on you, you will be begging him for death!"

Most had to be forcefully thrown through the veil. The word of the prosecutions quickly got out, and Death Eaters started pouring out of the country. Others went underground. Fudge was beginning to feel the pressure to order Bones to call off what was described to him as a "witch hunt". The terminology deliberately chosen to evoke unpleasant memories of the Burning Times.

 _Azkaban Island_

"It's standard procedure, Ma'am, I'll need your wand", the guard at the front desk told Amelia Bones.

"That's quite alright, no need to apologize and I am pleased to see you're on your duty", as she handed over her wand.

"You'll get this back on the way out… If you don't mind my asking… why not send a messenger? Why come all this way yourself?"

"He has been waiting for over ten years now for this news. It's too important to leave to some anonymous message runner".

"Someone will be with you directly to escort you. Wear this badge in plain sight at all times so that the Dementors will not confuse you for an escapee".

Coming to Azkaban wasn't one of her favourite things. She wasn't alone in that regard, as the effects of the Dementors could be felt, even before one set foot on the island. Even here, in the reception office, it felt as though every happy thought had been drained from the whole world. Most of the prisoners were, sooner or later, driven insane by that. This also explained the high turn over rate for guards and other employees working on the island.

"Right this way, Ma'am", her escort had arrived.

He led her deep into the cell blocks. He pulled out his wand.

"Stand well back from the door, and don't even think about trying anything Black", he ordered.

"Are you sure about this?', he asked before unlocking the cell door.

"Quite".

"Amelia?", Sirius Black asked.

"I see you remembered", she said as they embraced.

"What brings you? Another inspection?"

"I came to tell you in person that your case has been reopened. You shall have your for all too long now delayed trial, and a chance to clear your name".

"Why now?"

"You can thank your godson. It was his efforts that won you this chance; he has uncovered new evidence that the Wizengamot could no longer ignore. You will be transferred to the Ministry within a few days to await trial".

"That's great news! Did he find..."

"You will find out soon enough".

"So… Amelia… you never settled down?"

"I never did. I guess I got too wrapped up in career to think about that", she explained.

Amelia's visit was a good thing, and a bad thing. The happy news gave the Dementors a new weapon they could use against him, as they preyed on those happy thoughts. He didn't know how long a "few days" might be, but he was certain they would be some of the longest he's spent at Azkaban. Sirius Black was one of the few prisoners to keep his sanity.

 _London: Ministry of Magic_

"Ludo"

"Albus"

"Do you have any news?"

"Only that the Minister is wavering again. First it's on, then it's off..."

"It would seem that is what our Minister is best at", Dumbledore agreed.

"All I can say is he'd best make up his mind, and soon, otherwise we'll have to wait another year".

"I have Igor Karkarov on our side, and he's working on the Bulgarian Minister to work on Cornelius. He should be most persuasive".

"Let us hope so", Ludo agreed.

Albus knew everything depended on a successful World Cup. That would hold a lot of sway with Minister Fudge.

 **0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF**

Peter Pettigrew made his way across Europe, hiding in the backs of lorries, to Albania. He knew the Dark Lord long favoured Albania. It was here that he sought his long banished Master. He had precious little to go on, and figured this is why none of his followers came looking. Here, in the isolation, well away from major cities, he could hold his human form with little possibility he'd be recognized. He met muggle tourists from whom he could bum a meal. He figured his best shot was to make himself visible and hope the Dark Lord, in whatever form he was hiding, might recognize him and reveal himself.

 _4 Privet Drive_

"Off to school soon", Vernon said.

"Don't remind me", Harry complained.

"Now, now, you do want to go to university", Petunia reminded.

"That doesn't stop me from still wanting a whole summer off".

That evening, Harry got a phone call.

"It's for you", Petunia called out, "Mr. Weasley", she said.

"Mr. Weasley?", Harry answered.

"Glad I caught you at home. How was Majorca?"

"It was wonderful as ever. I'll be sending pictures and post cards as soon as I get Hedwig back".

"I guess you haven't heard?"

"Heard what?"

"It's your godfather… He escaped from Azkaban. It's been all over the _Prophet_ , and the Ministry even has the muggle police out looking for him. Madam Bones sent an owlpost, and Hedwig'll be bringing it along".

"He broke out? I thought that was impossible?"

"So did everyone else. The muggle police claim he's a mass murderer, believed to be armed and dangerous. The _Prophet_ 's saying much the same thing. I'm sorry Harry".

"He swore he was innocent! I was trying to get him a new trail!"

"I guess he decided he'd rather not take his chances with the Wizengamot. Just be careful".

None of this made any sense. They all knew Wormtail was alive and well, and the belief he'd been dead all these years was a big part of the case against Sirius. The owlpost Hedwig brought when he arrived the next day didn't clarify anything. It was from Madam Bones, informing Harry that Sirius was due to have his day in court within a few days of her sending the letter. Why was Sirius acting like a guilty man all of a sudden?

As for Sirius, he had considerable troubles of his own. Though he could hide from the muggles, being an animagus, that still left the Dementors. They were looking for him, and everyone on Privet Drive knew it. Though the muggle neighbors didn't know, they sure felt the soul-sucking effects. He dare not show up in any form at Diagon Alley, Hogsmeade, or anywhere else magi frequented, so that meant no possibility of seeing a copy of the _Daily Prophet_ to see what was going on in the magical world.

Wandering the suburbs, he got lucky: a home with a pet door. Once the owners were out, he slipped inside. Fortunately, their dog was in the back yard. There, he found writing paper, and postage stamps. Muggle post would have to do, and was the least likely means of contacting Harry he knew of that would get him caught, and very likely "kissed".

"How was your vacation?", Hermione asked the first day of summer school.

"Majorca was wonderful as usual", Harry explained.

"I guess you heard about Sirius?", she asked.

"Yes, don't know what that's about, I guess you heard from Ron?"

"He owled me… You heard from him?"

"No, not a word, and quite frankly, I don't care to. He's on his own now, I don't want to discuss it, not after all I did for him".

It finally dawned on her what he meant. There were new kids in class this summer, and some of them looked decidedly out of place. She remembered that last year, the DMLE had aurors on duty.

The post arrived with Harry's name on it, and nothing more than the address: 4 Privet Dr. No return address. Harry used his special wand to cast the silencing charm.

"It's from Sirius, and he wants to meet. Says he'll be waiting at Battersea Park, near the pond. Next Saturday".

"Are you sure this is a good idea?", Vernon asked.

"He is my godfather, and I need to know what's going on here. None of this makes any sense, why he'd run right before he could clear his name".

"How can you be sure? He's been locked up for so long now, there's no telling what he may be up to".

"Right when we know that Wormtail is alive, when he was sent up there mainly because they believed him dead?"

"How do you know these two aren't working together?"

"Not too likely, considering how Wormtail betrayed his trust once before. Breaking the Fidelius that was protecting James and Lily was about as great a betrayal as you could think of. We all heard, Wormtail confessed to betraying James and Lily to save himself. I need your help to help Sirius".

"What can I do?"

"Drop me off at Heathrow, I can take a taxi from there. Get good and lost in the traffic. It's a lot safer than the Knight Bus".

That Saturday, Harry walked along Carriage Dr. E. Sirius said he'd find him, and so he did.

"So here's where you got to boy", he said as he fastened a collar with a leash around the neck of a large black dog. To any observers, it would look like he was looking for a lost dog. Sirius led him to a secluded area, off the nature trails.

Sirius transformed to his human self. He looked like hell.

"Why..."

"Madam Bones came to see me, tell me about the case being reopened. I figured I'd be out in a few days. That's when I was ordered transferred to Solitary, even though I'd done nothing to warrant that. They had me alone there. No food, no water. After a couple of days, I figured I wasn't meant to leave the island alive".

"Who would do a thing like that?"

"I don't know, but there are obviously certain someone's in the Ministry who didn't want me to ever see the light of day. I had to get away, break out".

"How did you manage that?"

"It's the Dementors, their greatest weakness is the lack of normal senses. No sense of sight or hearing. They home in on human emotion. So I transformed into my Padfoot form. When they came to do their rounds, they didn't sense a human presence, so they opened the door to investigate, and I walked out".

"If it was that simple, then why did you stay for so long?"

"I didn't say it was simple by any means. If I'd been caught, that would mean the Kiss, no questions asked. Once you're out of the fortress, you still have to get off the island, and you've seen it: there are no places to hide at all. How long until the human guards knew I was gone?

"I had no choice but to swim for it, hope to get far enough away before I was spotted. I was in the water for two days, no food, no water, and no rest. It was beginning to look like they'd get their wish, that I'd disappear. Fortunately, fishermen on a fishing boat heard my barking, and came to rescue me. That's how I got back to land. I had to escape before they made a pet of me, make my way back to London. It wasn't easy, and I nearly died. I knew my chances were slim, but I'll take slim over none every time, and I figure my chances staying at Azkaban were exactly that: none".

"All those years, how..."

"How did I keep from going mad, you were about to ask?"

"Yes, I've heard stories".

"You see, I knew all along that I was innocent, that a great injustice had been done to me. Those aren't happy thoughts, so the Dementors had nothing to attack, no joy to suck from my mind. They pretty much leave me alone. It was a question of staying sharp, and sometimes a guard would slip me reading material, like copies of the _Prophet_. It helped greatly to behave myself, give none of the staff any grief".

"You know they're looking for you?"

"I tried to see you, but I sensed the Dementors patrolling the skies above Little Whinging. I figured all your friends were being watched as well. I tried stopping by the old house, but the aurors were watching there as well. So I've been living the life of a stray dog".

"You need a hide out, and I know just the place. I hope Azkaban hasn't made you too rusty".

"Where is this place?"

"It's in North Devon. If you can apparate us there".

"I don't know if I can, as you say, I'm pretty rusty and if you don't do it right..."

"I'll need to find a pay phone, call Uncle Vernon. He could pick us up here. Wait for me".

"Need some help", Harry requested, "I found the lost dog in the park, can you come and get us?"

Harry used code talk in case the muggle police were listening in.

"We need to get to North Devon", Harry explained when Vernon arrived. "I know it's on short notice and all".

"You realize this is at least a six hour trip?"

"I know it's all on such short notice, but it's unavoidable. It's right off the A386, where the highway stops paralleling the river. It'll be past Great Torrington".

"So you're Harry's godfather?"

"WOOF!"

"Pleased to meet you too. I guess we're going to pay Lucius a visit? How do you know where he lives?", Vernon asked.

"Dobby said he lives close to the Canal Bridge in North Devon, so I looked it up just in case. I don't know anyone else who could do anything for us", Harry explained.

"I guess I'd best tell Tunie not to wait supper for us".

Once they were well away from the city, Sirius returned to human form to explain everything that happened since he heard from Amelia.

"You're sure?", Vernon asked. "sure they were going to disappear you?"

"As sure as I can be. I'll tell you this: I wasn't willing to stick around and find out".

"I don't know how you do things in the wizarding world, but the more I learn, the less I like. If I'd only known, I doubt I would have ever allowed Harry to get involved. This is Third World, Banana Republic level bullshit".

The last of the twilight had come by the time they were following the Torridge off to the right. As the highway began to veer from the river: "It'll be on the right", Harry pointed out. Vernon turned off the highway, down a two laner, and across the bridge.

"Stop and let us off. That's the Canal Bridge we just crossed. Lucius' place is to the north", Harry explained. "Just hope we're on the right side of the river. I'm not looking forward to a swim".

"Here? It doesn't look like anything's here", Vernon objected.

"The place is warded; we'll detect the fields", Harry explained.

There was no river bank, as such, but the fields of grass made for an easy passage. About a half mile up the river, the trees began to grow to the river's edge.

"Lumos", Harry lit his special wand.

"Harry!", Sirius began.

"This is a special wand, it doesn't report underage wand magic to the Ministry", Harry explained. "I don't favour a broken ankle", he explained.

"Hell'd you get that?"

"Not from Ollivander, that's for sure".

Past an island that split the river in two, then past a gravel shelf, and into the thickest stand of trees seen so far.

"It's around here", Harry explained even though he wasn't sure what he was looking for.

"Now what?"

"Trip the wards", as Harry came forward, "Hope he notices".

Lucius did indeed notice, and came out to investigate: "Harry?", he asked, "and you brought a guest?"

"Sirius Black", Harry introduced, "my godfather. Uncle Vernon drove us up from London".

"Pleased to meet you...", Sirius began. He figured this was another animagus who, like Pettigrew, preferred this form for whatever reason.

"Lucius Lutra, and yes, I've heard quite a bit about you. I was wondering when you'd come. I get the _Prophet_ delivered. So you're the infamous mass murderer of muggles and the betrayer of the Potter's?"

"I didn't..."

"You need a hide away from the Ministry. You've come to the right place".

"Then you believe me?"

"You'll have to tell me all about it, but why does one whose innocence been all but proved suddenly scarper like he was guilty as charged? I know all about Wormtail and that he's alive and well and was living with the Weasleys. He's alive and well and you're off the hook".

That "place" was an ancient oak that had fallen into the river some years ago. Centuries of spring flooding had washed away the earth and gravel from its roots until it toppled into the river one night during high winds. The old dead wood decaying until the center was hollow: the perfect place for an otter to call home.

"Right this way", Lucius disappeared into the interior of the tree.

Harry and Sirius had to get down and slither through the muck. It was a tight fit, but the inside couldn't have been a greater contrast. There were self-cleaning charms so Harry and Sirius weren't covered in river muck. The upper, dry, part of the holt was a large drawing room with thick, red carpet. Mahogany paneling half way to the ceiling from which hung a crystal chandelier. The walls decorated with those pictures that moved like animated GIFs of otters at play. Tapestries displaying more otters and foxes. No trace of a human presence.

"Welcome to Owlery Holt", Lucius said. "You can make yourself to home here, and the Ministry won't be bothering you so long as you stay here. I hope you like fish".

"I like it just fine".

"Glad to hear it, because that's all I have: fresh caught from the river. By the way, you look like hell warmed over".

"It's been rough", Sirius agreed, "what does 'Owlery Holt' mean anyway?"

"A holt is where otters live. There's a family of owls who nest in the branches above us. When we were little, my two sisters and I used to listen to them all the time..."

"What are you talking about?", Sirius asked.

Lucius explained what he really was, yet again. This is where he was born, three springs ago. Of course, the holt looked nothing like this back then.

"Here's Mother", as he pointed out a picture.

"Sister #1… Sister #2. We were her first litter..."

"Your father?", Sirius asked.

"Like many a dog-otter, he caught the wanderlust after his family duties were fulfilled. I don't remember him".

"Where are they now?", Harry asked.

"Sister #1 died, caught in an illegal gin. She was pulled under and drowned. Nothing we could do to help".

"So sorry for your loss", Harry and Sirius agreed.

"It was one of the first things I took care of. I got her justice, and I guarantee you, the bastard won't be doing any more illegal otter trapping after I got through with him. He'll regret that for the rest of his miserable existence.

"As for Sister #2, she's farther up the river, along a tributary. I stop by to watch, and she's raising a family of her own. As for Mother, right now, we're in a parallel dimension of space-time. To her, the holt doesn't look any different. She doesn't know it, but she's benefiting from the wards, no humans, no animals".

"Interesting", Sirius said, "and this technomage?"

"I can't name the name nor tell you anything more about him. I guess you'll be wanting to get back?", he asked of Harry.

"I can't spend the night".

"I expect I'll be coming by soon enough. Looks like I'll be visiting the Ministry again. Anyway, good night till next time".

"'Night, Lucius, Sirius"

"Thanks again, Harry", Sirius told him.

"We'll get to the bottom of this", Harry promised.

"I don't doubt it, not anymore", Sirius agreed.

Harry made his way back to where Vernon was waiting: "Everything went OK?", he asked.

"Couldn't be better, Sirius is in good hands now", he didn't elaborate.

"These adventures of yours just keep coming".

"You should be used to it by now".

"Harry, I'll never get used to it".

 **0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF**

The next day, an owlpost arrived: "It's from Pansy", Harry explained.

"The girl from Hogwarts? The one you said was forbidden to see you?"

"The same. Her father, Edmond, was one of Voldemort's followers. He got swept up in a raid, was tried and executed for all the crimes he committed during the last war", Harry explained.

"How positively dreadful", Petunia said. "That poor girl".

"Yeah, how do you reconcile yourself to knowing how awful your father was? Although it doesn't look like anyone's preventing me from seeing Pansy anymore. I best owl her back".

Harry didn't explain his role in this.

Harry owled back.

 _Dear Pansy,_

 _So sorry to hear about your father. It must be rough, and I'd like to see you. It's too bad that this political nonsense came between us, especially since it was before our times. I'd like to come and see you, if it's at all possible._

 _Regards,_

 _Harry_

He went to see her when he had the free time.

"Oh Harry...", Pansy began. He gave her a big hug. "...I feel… so guilty..."

"Over what? It wasn't your fault".

"It's not that… when I heard… my first thought was relief that the beatings would stop".

"Pansy?"

"I got bare assed whippings with a cane a lot. That's why I avoided you after the Yule Ball… Mother, too, he abused her as well".

"I had no idea..."

"Is… is it wrong to feel glad it won't go on?"

"He's still your father… I don't think so… You're conflicted and that's understandable. I'll be here for you".

Harry also had business with the new Madam Parkinson:

"You need to go to Gringott's: see Barchoke, and tell him that Lord Gaunt referred you. Ask for an appointment to see Director Ragnok. Tell Ragnok that you want to rescind all joint access to your accounts. One of Voldemort's demands was that all his Death Eaters grant him access to their accounts. If you don't want him pilfering the family assets, you must do this. If there's any problems, let me know, and I'll see it's taken care of".

"I… didn't know that", Mrs Parkinson told him. "Thank you for mentioning it".

"That's what friends do for one another", Harry explained.

"You can see Pansy any time you like".

"Thank you for that".

Harry got through summer school with excellent grades. The one other event of significance was Aunt Marge's wedding. The event everyone was waiting for had finally arrived: the World Cup. The plan was for Vernon to pick up Hermione and her parents, then drive to Malfoy Manor. From there, they would be apparating to the site of the World Cup, a remote moor. They had to go in shifts: Lucius took the kids while Narcissa took Ted and Marilyn Granger, then come back for Vernon and Petunia.

For those using apparition, there was a convenient wooded area where they could arrive, unseen by muggle eyes. Others took muggle transportation, or they took portkeys. There were some 200 portkeys spread all over Britain. Since they were expecting a crowd of some 100,000, arrivals were staggered. Those with the cheapest tickets had to arrive two weeks early and camp out for the duration. Foreign visitors were arriving from five continents.

They crossed the moor, headed for a stone cottage. Beyond it, hundreds of tents rose up a gentle slope, towards dark woods on the horizon. Someone was standing in the door, looking out over the field of tents.

"Mornin'", Lucius greeted.

Harry knew he was probably one of the few muggles within a radius of ten miles.

"And a good mornin' to you Sir".

"You're Mr. Roberts?"

"Aye, that I am".

"Two tents for the Malfoy party, booked a couple of days ago?"

Mr Roberts consulted a spread sheet running on a lap top: "Here it is, good location, right by the woods. Will you be paying now?"

"Certainly… (Harry help me) These bits of paper".

"You a foreign guest?", Roberts asked. "We have a lot of them, not familiar with British currency. Two not ten minutes ago tried to pay with gold coins the size of hub caps".

"Did you now?", Lucius asked.

"Had to explain to them that I couldn't break those… Never been such a crowd, people just seem to show up. Lots of foreign guests, and weirdos. One bloke's here in kilts and a poncho".

"Shouldn't he?", Lucius asked.

"Seems strange, mixing Scottish with Mexican".

"Let's see...", Harry requested and counted off the correct amount.

"Your change, and a map of the camp site. Enjoy your stay with us for your rally, or party".

"What's up with that Mr. Roberts?", Hermione asked. "I thought muggles weren't supposed to know?"

"Mr. Roberts owns this property. We had to work with him in order to host the World Cup. There's always an exception for every rule, but he understands the importance of the secrecy laws, and can be trusted to say nothing of what he knows", Lucius explained. "it's good business for him, and for us as well".

They made their way through rows of tents, most of which didn't look out of the ordinary, though some did make mistakes by equipping their tents with chimneys, bell pulls, or weather vanes. Others, their owners made no attempt to conceal the magical nature. That was the case for the Malfoys' camp site. The tent was an extravaganza of stripped silk, complete with a few albino peacocks tethered by the front door, a garden with a fountain. It was by the edge of the wood. Dobby had done an excellent job setting it up for their arrival.

"We're gonna have a look around", Harry announced.

He, Draco, Hermione, and Dudley went off for some sight-seeing.

"That's fine, just make sure to be back before the game starts".

One little boy who looked to be about three was outside, prodding at a slug with a wand. It grew in size with each poke, and was now as large as a salami.

"Kevin! How many times have I told you, you do not touch Daddy's wand!", she reprimanded. "EWWWWW!", she stepped on it.

"You bust slug!", he complained.

"Inside! Right now!"

Two little girls no older than Kevin were riding toy broomsticks that rose no higher than to barely lift their feet from the ground.

"In broad daylight!", one Ministry wizard was complaining to himself.

It was already obvious that these folks were more intent on partying than secrecy. The Ministry couldn't do anything other than give them a pass.

A group of middle-aged women were gossiping beneath a sign that announced they were from the SALEM WITCHES' INSTITUTE

"Da fuck?", Dudley announced.

There was an entire stretch of tents that were thickly covered in shamrocks, making it look like a whole crop of oddly shaped hillocks had sprouted.

"Hermione? Harry?", someone called out. It was Seamus Finnigan. He was sitting in front of one of the shamrock covered tents with his best friend from Hogwarts, Dean Thomas and a sandy haired older lady that could only be his mother.

"Like the decorations?"

"Yes", she said, "Seamus, been awhile".

Seamus Finnigan was one of the Gryffindor Firsties to be pulled out of Hogwarts.

"Say, where are you going to school now?", he asked.

"We're going to Beaux Batons", Harry explained.

"I never left Hogwarts", Draco said. "No way would Father send me anywhere else".

"I'm still at Smeltings", Dudley explained.

"I'm not familiar with that school?", Seamus asked, confused.

"It's a school for normies", Dudley explained.

"When my folks transferred me out, we went back to Ireland where I attend a day school. I would've preferred staying too, but after that incident, it was out of the question".

Harry, Hermione and Draco well remembered the incident in question, the possessed Professor Quirrel.

"So what's with all the clover?', Dudley asked.

"They're shamrocks, actually. The Ministry officials are always complaining, but you should see what the Bulgarians are doing. You are supporting Ireland?"

"Well, yeah, keep it close to the family".

"It was a disgrace", Draco said, "England's losing to Transylvania by 390 : 10. Then Scotland falls to Uzbekistan, and Wales to Luxembourg. A miracle we got the World Cup at all".

"Glad to hear it", Seamus' mother announced as she passed out rosettes of green.

The souvenir hawkers were out in force, pushing carts or wearing trays. Luminous rosettes, green for Ireland, red for Bulgaria, called out the names of the team players, there were figurines of the players that would strut back and forth in the palm of your hand, flags that played their respective nation's anthems when you waved them. Green hats with dancing shamrocks, and Bulgarian scarves with lions who roared.

One stand offered something useful: brass binoculars.

"These are Omnioculars", the wizard explained, "you can replay the action, view in slow motion, even add commentary. Bargain at 10 Galleons".

It was here that they caught up with Ron, Ginny, Fred and George.

"Terrific!", Ron was complaining, "now I wish I hadn't bought all this crap!"

"I'll take five", Harry announced.

"You don't need...", Ron started to protest. One of the sore points between Ron and Harry was that Harry was a good deal richer than his entire family.

"Consider it an advanced Christmas", Harry explained, "of course, that means no Christmas this year".

"Thanks a lot!", Ron said.

"Thanks", Fred, George, and Ginny agreed.

"Not getting any souvenirs?", Harry asked as he noticed neither Fred nor George were sporting rosettes or hats.

"We decided it would be best...", Fred began.

"...To invest all our savings on a wager with Mr Bagman", George finished.

"Bagman's booking the game?", Harry asked. "Isn't that, well, just a bit illegal, not to mention a conflict of interest?"

"He organized the whole World Cup, so they're looking the other way", Fred said.

"Father didn't like it, but he's agreed to keep this from Mother. Ludo was a bit disappointed he could get only one Galleon from Dad – on Ireland, and he didn't want to part with that. We have big plans for our winnings, and don't want her confiscating it", Fred explained.

"She's always bitching about not getting enough OWLs, but we have plans of our own. Needless to say, she doesn't approve".

"What plans?"

"Now that, is a secret".

"So how did you bet? Ireland or Bulgaria? I promise I won't tell".

"Ireland, of course, but with a proposition: Ireland wins, but Krum gets the Snitch. Ludo offered 1000 : 1 odds".

"Isn't that, well, a bit unlikely?", Harry asked.

"We invested all we had: 37 Galleons, 15 Sickles and 3 Knewts. Not much we can do with that, but 37,000 Galleons is something we can work with. Don't take a chance; you don't succeed".

"That's so… improbable?", Hermione said. "Krum would have to catch the Snitch with his team way behind. Why would he even think to do such a thing?"

"I think we'd better find Ludo", Harry said. "I want in on this, you might want to put up what you can, Hermione".

"Why?! You have _any_ idea how _mental_ this sounds? I'd say it's lighting Galleons on fire, but they don't burn".

"Precisely"

They sought out Ludo Bagman, who was only too happy to take the same proposition from Harry and Hermione. They got their bets down just ahead of the sounding of the gong that announced that it was time for the spectators to make their way to the stadium.

Red and green lanterns switched on, outlining the path through the woods to the stadium that could seat 100,000. People started streaming for the entrances. The Malfoys and their guests used a special VIP's entrance.

"Top box!", the attendant announced. "straight up the stairs, all the way to the top. The stairs were carpeted in rich purple. The Top Box was a VIP sky box that was situated between the golden goal posts, some fifty feet above the pitch, which looked like green velvet from this vantage point. A couple dozen purple and gilt chairs stood in two rows. Far below, spectators were streaming into their seats. There was what looked like a giant blackboard, almost in the direct line of sight. Everything was illuminated by a mysterious golden light that could have come from the very stadium itself.

It was here they met up with Minister Fudge, Minister Oblansk of Bulgaria, and the Weasleys: Arthur, Ron, Ginny, Fred and George, Percy, Bill, and Charles. Molly was staying behind to look after family business (she wasn't all that enthusiastic about Quiddich anyway).

"Mr. Minister", Percy greeted, bowing so low his glasses slipped off, breaking. He repaired his glasses with an embarrassed look.

"Mr?", Fudge began.

"Weasley… Percy Weasley. I just started at the Ministry: Mr Crouch's assistant".

"Good man, Barty Crouch, and welcome aboard".

"And Harry", Fudge greeted him like an old friend, almost like an equal, as Percy looked on, not concealing his envy. "You haven't met Mr Oblansk or Oblansok – doesn't matter, he doesn't speak a word of English – the Bulgarian Minister of Magic?"

"The pleasure's all mine", as Harry offered a hand. The Bulgarian was wearing a black velvet robe with gold trim.

"Mr. Minister", Fudge tried explaining, "you have heard of Harry Potter: the only known survivor of the Killing Curse?"

The Bulgarian Minister indicated he understood by pointing at Harry's scar.

Fudge bowed to Narcissa Malfoy: "Lady Malfoy, good to see you again".

"Arthur", Lucius said to Mr Weasley.

"Lucius".

"Fancy meeting you here".

"I got the tickets, courtesy of Mr. Bagman, for services rendered".

"Lucius is my guest", Fudge explained. "He's just made a sizable donation to St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Injuries and Maladies".

"That's always welcome", Arthur agreed.

"I'm glad, at least, the Ministry is showing you some favours", Lucius told Arthur. "It's the least they could do to reward you for all your efforts for your Department", he added with a hint of sarcasm.

More VIPs were entering the sky box, and Percy was up and down out of his seat so much it looked like he was trying to sit on a hedge hog. The ultimate brown noser, Harry thought to himself.

The "blackboard" opposite their line of sight displayed advertisements as though written by an unseen hand, then wiped clean for the next ones:

 _The Blue Bottle – a broom for the entire family. Equipped with its own security systems…_

 _Mrs. Shower's Magical Mess-Remover – No more scrubbing and scouring. Just spray and wipe..._

 _Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans – A risk with every bite..._

And on and on: Harry figured placing an ad here was as pricey as any muggle sports broadcast.

Harry looked around to see who was up here, and he spotted a familiar figure: a critter so small its legs stuck straight out from the seat that was way too large for it. Its hands covered its face, but there was no mistaking those bat-ears.

"Dobby?"

It looked back at him: "Did Sir just call me 'Dobby'?"

"Excuse me, you looked like someone I know". It definitely wasn't him, though obviously a house elf by the size and misshapen nose. This one's nose the size and shape of a large tomato.

"I is Winky, Sir, and you must be Harry Potter?"

"Yes, but how did you know?"

"I has heard of Dobby, and heard what your special friend did for him".

Harry didn't like the sound of that.

"Would you run that by me again?"

"Sir, we house elves know each other. We talk when out doing errands for our masters. Word gets around".

"I see… and what are you doing?"

"I is saving a seat for my master… Though I is not liking it, I is scared of high places. I would rather be back in master's tent".

"Good thing", Lucius said, "the Bulgarians are always trying to cadge all the good seats".

"Then why did he send you?", Hermione asked.

"I is good house elf. I always do what master says".

"Even if he knew you don't like heights? You had no choice? Rather inconsiderate, if you ask me".

"Master is good master, and I is good house elf. I does what master says. It's the duty of the house elf to serve well and work hard. It matters not what I wants".

"That sounds more like being a slave than a servant".

"I is not listening to such subversive talk!"

Winky folded down her ears, hands clasped firmly in place. It was obvious the discussion was over.

"Well, that SUX", Hermione said to Harry. "Something needs to change about that". She pulled out her program: "Says here they're going to have a pre-game show with the team mascots performing".

"Oh, they always do that", Lucius explained. "It's always worth watching".

"Ready?", Ludo asked Fudge.

"Ready when you are".

Ludo used the Sonorous amplification charm that worked like a PA: "Welcome! Ladies and Gentlemen: welcome to the final of the 427th World Cup!"

The spectators waved, clapped, and waved their flags that played the national anthem, all adding to the noise of excitement. The "blackboard" now displayed:

IRELAND: 0

BULGARIA: 0

"Without further ado, the Bulgarian National Team mascots!"

"I see", Arthur commented, "veela"

"What are vee...", Ron started asking.

The veela were lining up on their side of the field. Veela were women, or at least that's what they looked like, the most beautiful women Ron had ever seen. Yet, they looked too perfect, and he wondered how it was their skin seemed to shine full moon-bright with their own light.

They began to sing and dance: "Cover your ears!", Harry called out. He had some experience with veela at Beaux Batons in Fleur Delacourt.

Ron didn't do it, and quit worrying about it. He quit thinking about anything at all, but for the sirens' song. Just blissfully empty of anything but for the singing and dancing veela far below on the field. He thought it would be a good idea to get a closer look, as he began to climb over the guard railing. Never mind the serious, fifty foot drop.

"Hell do you _think_ you're doing!", Ginny called out, pulling him back, breaking the spell.

"Huh? Wha…?"

"Looked to me like you were actually going to jump!"

The veelas' spell didn't work on women and girls.

"Don't listen!", she reprimanded.

After the veelas' performance, the males in the crowd booed and demanded more. As the veela lined up along the side wall.

"And now, put your wands in the air for the Irish National Team mascots!", Ludo called out.

What looked like a comet came streaking over the field, making one complete circuit before splitting into comets that settled beside the goals at opposite ends of the pitch. A rainbow arced overhead, connecting both sides, ending at a ball of light. The crowd oohed and ahhed at the display.

Next, the rainbow faded, and the balls of light merged and broke apart, forming a large shamrock that rose above the stadium. Next, it looked like a golden shower. As it passed overhead, gold coins dropped on everyone's heads, clattered to the floor, bounced off seats.

"Awesome!", Ron called out as he began to scoop as many of the coins as he could.

"Leprechauns!", Arthur called out. (What else could the Irish mascots be?)

Looking closely, you could see that they were carrying green lanterns and wearing bright red vests.

"Here you go!", Ron called out as he handed Harry a handful of gold coins. "For the Omnioculars. We're even now, so you're back on the hook for Christmas!"

The shamrock formation broke as the leprechauns landed on the field, taking their places opposite the veela, and settled down to watch the match.

"And now, Ladies and Gentlemen, would you please welcome the Bulgarian National Team! I give you… Dimitrov!"

A figure in scarlet robes shot out from the locker room tunnel so fast as to almost blur, riding a Firebolt.

"Ivanova!"

A second figure appeared with the same speed.

"Zograf! Levsky! Vulchanov! Volkov! Aaaaaad Krum!"

"That's him! That's him!", Ron called out, following him with his Omnioculars. "He's not just a great athlete, he's an _artist_! A genius!"

Harry focused his as well. He'd heard about Viktor Krum, as any Quiddich player would have, though knowing few of the details. He was thin and dark, with a large curved nose. He bore a great resemblance to Snape, Harry thought, with the same bird of prey look. Except for the thick, bushy, black eyebrows, and that his hair wasn't long and greasy. He didn't look eighteen.

"And now please give it up for the Irish National Team!", called Bagman. "Connolly! Ryan! Troy! Mullet! Moran! Quigley! Aaaaaand Lynch!"

The Irish players wearing green swept onto the field from the tunnel on the other side of the field.

"Now let's give a warm welcome to our referee, all the way from Egypt, the Chairman of the International Association of Quiddich, Hassan Mosafa!"

Mosafa was a small, bald wizard with a mustache that could rival Uncle Vernon's. He had a wooden box under one arm, and his broom in the other. His robes gold to differentiate him from the players. He set the box down at the center of the pitch. He released the scarlet Quaffle, the black Bludgers, and visible for an instant, the Golden Snitch. He mounted his broom, and took off after the balls. A sharp blast from his whislte signaled the start of the match.

"Aaaand they're off!", Bagman announced. "Mullet! Troy! Moran! Dimitrov! Back to Mullet! Troy! Levsky! Moran again!"

The Chasers passed the Quaffle so fast that all Bagman could do was announce their names, let alone describe what they were doing. Harry looked on through his Omnioculars, dialing in the slow motion feature, and clicking on the commentary button. He was getting a bit jealous here. He fancied himself a pretty good player, he'd done quite well with both Slytherin's and Beaux Batons' teams, but his teams were pikers compared to these guys.

HAWKSHEAD ATTACK FORMATION the superimposed text read. The Irish Chasers flew with Troy just in front of Mullet and Moran, as they bore down on the Bulgarians in a flying wedge.

PORSKOFF PLOY popped up next as Troy suddenly shot upwards, drawing off the Bulgarian Chaser, Ivanova, while dropping the Quaffle to Moran. Volkov, the Bulgarian Beater took a powerful swing at a passing Bludger, sending it into Moran's path. He had to duck to avoid it, and dropped the Quaffle. Levsky, flying low, caught it…

"TROY SCORES!", Bagman called out as the crowd erupted into cheers and applause. "Ten : nothing Ireland's favour!"

"Da fuck!", Harry called out, "Levsky has the Quaffle!"

"Honestly, Harry, you're going to miss things if you watch in slow motion", Hermione reprimanded. Troy took a celebratory lap around the field. The leprechauns took to the sky, to form a glittering shamrock, as the veela sulked on their side of the field.

The Chasers of both teams were superb, and played much better than those of any school team. It was almost like they were using telepathy, they co-ordinated their attacks so well. The green rosette Harry wore kept squeaking out their names: "Troy… Mullet… Mooooran..." In the next ten minutes, Ireland scored two more times to bring the score to 30 : 0 Ireland's favour. The green clad supporters of Team Ireland sent up a din of cheers, roars, and applause.

The pace of the game increased, as did the brutality. The Bulgarian Beaters, Volkov and Vulchanov, smacked the Bludgers even more fiercely, scattering the Irish Chasers' formations, preventing them from deploying their best moves. Twice they had to scatter, allowing Ivanova to break through their ranks and slip the Quaffle past the Irish Keeper, Ryan, to finally put Bulgaria on the score board.

"30 : 10 IRELAND'S FAVOUR!", Bagman announced.

All males put fingers in ears as the veela began to sing and dance in celebration. This time, it was all the leprechauns who sulked in disappointment.

"Dimitrov! Levsky! Dimitrov! Ivanova! Oh my...", Bagman announced.

The chasers, Krum and Lynch had broken off, headed for the ground at an insane speed.

"They're gonna crash!", Hermione called out, concerned.

"No they're not!", Harry called back as he looked for any glint of gold, but seeing none.

Hermione was half right, as Krum broke off his dive just in time. Lynch wasn't so fortunate as he took a header right onto the field with a thud heard all over the stadium. The Irish supporters let out a collective groan.

"Asshole!", Arthur called out. "He was faking it! How could he be so stupid?!"

"Wronsky Faint", Harry explained, as he'd used this very tactic himself while playing for Team Slytherin.

"Time out!", called Bagman as play was suspended while the medimagi examined Lynch.

"I hope he's OK", Hermione said.

"He'll be just fine", Lucius reminded, "he just got ploughed. It happens".

Harry took a look at Krum through the Omnioculars as he circled a hundred feet above the stadium. His eyes darted all over. He was using the down time to look for the Snitch while he had no interference.

Finally, Lynch got back on his feet, revived by the potions the medimagi gave him. He got back on his Firebolt, and kicked off.

"Looks like Ireland won't have to play without a Seeker after all", Bagman announced.

Mosafa blew his whistle and play resumed. Lynch's recovery gave new heart to Ireland's supporters. Over the next fifteen minutes, Irelans scored ten more goals in rapid fire succession.

As Mullet shot towards the Bulgarian goals yet again, the Keeper, Zograf shot forward to intercept her. Harry couldn't see from his vantage point, but Mosafa's whistle blast indicated there had been a foul.

"Mosafa takes the Bulgarian Keeper to task for cobbing: excessive use of elbows, and it is a penalty for Ireland", Bagman explained.

The leprechauns took to the sky to form the words: "HA! HA! HA!"

The veela likewise took to the field, and began to sing and dance. The reff had landed among them, and was acting in a most unprofessional manner, flirting, smoothing his mustache.

"We can't have that!", Bagman announced, "referee interference. Someone get out there and give him a good slap".

One of the medimagi did precisely that, bringing the referee back to reality. He looked embarrassed as he was now yelling something to the veela, who had stopped their singing and dancing. Now they glared at him with mutiny in their eyes.

"Mosafa appears to be attempting to eject the Bulgarian Team mascots from the field! We haven't seen anything like this before… Oh this could get ugly".

He was quite right. The Bulgarian Beaters, Volkov and Volchanov landed next to the referee and began a loud argument concerning the leprechauns who were now forming the words: HEE! HEE! HEE! Even though no one could hear, it was obvious what he was ordering the players to do as he pointed skywards. When the players didn't return to the game, the reff gave two blasts from his whistle.

"Two penalties for Ireland: unnecessary delay of game!", he called out.

The Bulgarian fans howled with anger. Volkov and Volchanov returned to the game, which reached even higher levels of dirty play. The Beaters for both sides showed no mercy, and the Bulgarian Beaters seemed to not care whether their bats hit a Bludger or a human. Dimitrov shot straight at Moran, who had the Quaffle, almost unseating her.

"Foul! Foul! Foul!", roared the Irish fans.

"Foul", Bagman agreed. "Skinning, Dimitrov deliberately tried to collide with Moran… Yes, there's the whistle: another penalty for Ireland".

The leprechauns formed a large hand that was flipping the bird at the veela, who freaked. They were throwing fireballs at the leprechauns. Now, they didn't look so pretty as their faces were transforming into bird's heads with long, cruel-looking beaks, bat wings sprouting from their shoulders. Ministry wizards were rushing onto the field to try to separate the veela and leprechauns to keep them from killing one another. The battle on the field was as fierce as the one taking place above it.

"Levsky… Dimitrov… Moran… Mullet… Inavova… Moran again… MORAN SCORES!"

The announcement barely heard over the roar of the Irish fans, and the shrieking of the veela, the blasts from Ministry officials' wands, and the frustration of the Bulgarian fans. Play resumed immediately, with Dimitrov having possession. Dimitrov… now Levsky..."

The Irish Beater, Quigley, smashed the Bludger hard, sending it straight at Krum, who didn't duck quite quick enough. He took the hit straight to the face. Everyone wondered how he could take a hit like that, and not fall off his broom. His nose clearly broken; blood pouring down his face. It looked like that Bludger should have taken his head off.

No time out was called, as Mosafa had problems of his own: a veela's fireball set the bristles of his broom on fire.

"Hellsamatter with them?", Hermione called out. "He can't play like that!"

"Look at Lynch!", Harry replied.

Lynch was diving at a furious pace, but this time it wasn't a Wronsky Feint: it was the real deal. He had an eyeball on the Snitch. The crowd figured it out, and the Irish fans rose in a wave of green to cheer their Seeker on. However, Krum was on his tail. How he could see where he was going was anyone's guess: droplets of blood flew behind him. Krum pulled alongside…

"They're gonna crash!", Hermione called out.

"No, they're not".

Once again, Lynch face planted onto the field, a mob of angry veela stampeding him.

"Krum has the Snitch!", Bagman announced as Krum held up a glint of gold. "It's all over! Ireland wins: 210 to 190!"

"Why did he catch the Snitch when they were more than 150 points behind?!", Ron called out. "Did he forget the score? What an idiot!"

"He knew it was all over", Harry called back. "How much longer could he stay in the air? He wanted to end it on his terms".

"IRELAND WINS!", Bagman called out. "KRUM GETS THE SNITCH, BUT IRELAND WINS! MERLIN! I DON'T THINK ANY OF US EXPECTED THAT!"

Medimagi were making their way through the mob of veela to attend to Krum, but he refused to allow them to clean him up. His team mates crowded around, looking disappointed.

The Irish players were on their side of the field, dancing in celebration as the leprechauns showered them with gold. The whole stadium resonated with the Irish national anthem, played by multitudes of waving Irish flags. The veela were transforming back into female figures, slinking back to their side of the field, disappointed and dejected.

"At least we put up a good struggle", came a voice from behind. It was the Bulgarian Minister.

"You… you speak English?!", Fudge asked, indignant. "You made me point and pantomime all this time?"

"Well, it was rather funny".

"As Team Ireland performs a lap of victory, the Quiddich World Cup is brought to the Top Box", Bagman was saying.

A bright spot light illuminated the inside, so everyone could watch the presentation. Two wizards were carrying the large, gold cup.

The Bulgarian players filed into the first row: "Let's give the gallant losers a round of appreciation". As they arrived, they shook hands with the two Ministers of Magic, their own and Fudge.

Viktor Krum, still carrying the Snitch, was last in line. His face still a bloody mess, as two black eyes were forming. The whole crowd gave them a standing ovation.

The Irish team was next, the Chaser, Aiden Lynch, had to b held up by two of his team mates after that second crash. Quigley and Moran held up the Cup while the whole audience cheered, clapped, stamped their feet. They took another victory lap, this time flanked by their mascots. Lynch had to ride behind Connolly as he was in no condition to fly solo.

"Quietus", Bagman cast the neutralizing spell.

"Well, they'll be talking about this match for years", Bagman said, "Too bad it didn't last longer".

Harry, Hermione, George and Fred were right there to collect their winnings.

"How much do I owe you?", he asked. Thirty seven thousand and change for Fred and George; fifty thousand to Harry and Hermione a piece.

"Ummmm… this is a bit embarrassing", he apologized, "it would seem I'm a little short. I'll have it for you real soon", he promised. It was embarrassing, but they knew they'd get paid because Bagman wouldn't be booking any more action if he got the reputation of a welcher.

Hermione asked: "How did you know?"

"The fix was in from the get-go", Harry explained. "That game was rigged, and somehow, Fred and George knew. Team Ireland isn't that good, I mean, really, Lynch falls for the oldest trick in the book and ploughs? Team Bulgaria took a powder, and Krum catches the Snitch to lose the whole game? It doesn't add up".

"But… who? And why?"

"Looks like someone wanted Bagman on the hook for some reason".

"But who?", she asked again.

"I don't know, but I have a real good suspicion".


	29. Back to Hogwarts

**Back to Hogwarts**

They made their way back to the campsite the way they came, following the paths illuminated by the red and green lanterns. Overhead, the occasional leprechaun soared, giggling and waving his green lantern. The Irish fans were still yelling and singing in a celebration that looked like it would go on all night long. Harry was glad the Malfoy's tent included silencing charms, otherwise, there would be no sleep at all tonight.

"Interesting game", Vernon commented, "but rough, perhaps even rougher than Rugby. I'm not sure I like the idea of Harry's playing this game. Looks very dangerous. The way that Bulgarian took that cannon ball right in the face. If he fell from that height, he would have died. Same for the Irish player who crashed twice".

"School Quiddich is quite different", Lucius explained. "Those were professional leagues, and it looks worse than it really is. I'm not denying that players haven't died, but that is a rare occurrence. The rules for school games are different. Children wouldn't be allowed to play if there was any significant danger".

"Just some bumps and bruises, nothing worse", Harry explained. "I like playing, and I think I'm pretty good at it. You could get hurt playing Rugby or Football, you could get whacked in the head playing Cricket, and normie schools sponsor teams".

"I thought it very exciting", Petunia said, "and co-ed too: you don't see that in professional sports".

"That's the thing about Quiddich", Harry explained, "only the Beaters require strength. For Chasers and Seekers, it's speed and agility that count".

"What I wouldn't give to play", Dudley said.

"You could be a Beater".

"He's the one who bats around the cannon balls?", Dudley asked.

"Yep, and it's called a 'Bludger'".

"Too bad there aren't any inter-school leagues", Draco said, "then we could match wits".

Draco and Harry were both Seekers.

"That would be something", Harry agreed, "maybe if you transferred to Beaux Batons".

"Not. Gonna. Happen", Draco reminded.

"It really was a shame, losing the both of you", Lucius said.

"Not after the irresponsible way that school is run", Vernon protested.

"We are trying to change that. I am on the Board of Governors, and once we have a decent Headmaster, there will be changes made. Of that, I can assure you".

"I hope you do. For the sake of the children, regardless of whether Harry returns or not.

"One thing I don't understand", Vernon began as he bought forth a handful of gold coins from one of his overstuffed pockets, "is how they can afford it?"

"That's leprechaun gold", Lucius explained, "and leprechauns never give away gold. It will be gone by morning, so it cost no one anything. It's all part of the pregame show".

"I should have guessed it was too good to be true. Then all those legends about leprechauns and their pots of gold..."

"Are incomplete. You don't get to keep it".

 **0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF**

"Get up! Get up now! Harry! Hermione!"

"Huh? Wha..."

"No time to explain", it was Lucius and Narcissa.

Harry had drifted off to sleep. He hastily pulled on jeans and a T. Outside, he could tell something wasn't quite right. The Irish fans should have been celebrating, getting louder and rowdier the more butterbeer, wine, and fire whiskey consumed. Now, people weren't singing, they were screaming in terror.

There was a tight knot of people marching across the field, wands held high. People were running away from them, and there were bursts of light and sounds like gunfire. Above them, four forms writhed unnaturally. He still had his Omnioculars and focused on the scene. These were figures clad in identical, featureless, black robes with hoods pulled tightly over their heads. They all wore identical silver masks. They were blasting tents out of their way.

As they passed a burning campsite, he could recognize one of the people high in the air: Mr Roberts the property owner and site manager. The others were his wife and two children, a preteen boy and his teen-aged sister. One of the wizards turned the girl upside down, her nightdress dropping down around her head. She was wearing nothing, and the nightdress pulled away, fluttering down to the crowd below. She was completely naked. They made her do a dance like a marionette on strings. The crowd below hooted with glee. Her younger brother whirled like a dervish, his head flopping from side to side.

"That's sick!", Hermione commented.

" _Mega_ -sick", Harry agreed.

"They're attacking the muggles", Lucius said. "We need to get your parents and brother into hiding. Into the woods!"

"Who are they?!", Vernon asked.

"Death Eaters", Harry explained.

"Here? _Here_?!"

The woods were getting darker: they could hear other people calling back and forth, children crying, looking for lost parents. They passed a gaggle of Beaux Batons students.

"Dammit!", Harry called out, "my wand".

"What happened to it?", Hermione asked.

"I must've dropped it".

"Here", she said. "Lumos", to light the way so they wouldn't break an ankle.

There was a rustling nearby. They all looked around, anxious. Was it just a harmless woodland critter, disturbed by the noise? It was Winky, struggling to move forward, but seemingly held back by an invisible hand.

"There is bad wizards about", she announced. "People floating up in the air. Trying to get away..."

Winky was pulled back into the woods by whatever unseen hand held her.

"What the hell was that?", Vernon asked.

"A house elf...", Harry explained

"But what's wrong with her?"

"She probably didn't have permission to run away", Hermione explained. "Most magi treat them like animals. Look at how frightened she was of being in the sky box, but did her owner care? No, of course he didn't".

"House elves are under a special enchantment that guarantees their loyalty and obedience. If she were disobeying, she would have to fight that off", Lucius explained further.

"Disgusting..."

"Better keep moving", Lucius said.

They passed a trio of goblins who were cackling over a sack of Galleons they'd won from betting on the match. They didn't seem to care about the mayhem. Maybe they believed it didn't involve them? Too drunk with greed to care? Now Harry and Hermione understood why Bagman didn't pay them right away: you don't make goblins wait for their winnings. Still farther on, they crossed a moon lit meadow where three male wizards were hitting on one of the Bulgarian veela.

"I make 100 sacks of Galleons a year!", one was heard to brag. "I work for the Department of Dangerous Creatures!"

"The hell you do", another disagreed, "you wash dishes at the Leaky Cauldron. I, on the other hand, am a vampyre hunter. I have 96 kills to my credit".

"I'm next in line for Minister of Magic", a pimply-faced young man was saying. "I'll be the youngest Minister of Magic ever!"

Harry recognized this last suitor: Stan Shunpike, a Knight Bus driver.

They left the veela to deal her suitors.

"I think we'll be OK here", Lucius announced.

"Why would they do something like this?", Petunia asked.

"Yeah, and with almost the entire Ministry here as well. How do you suppose they thought they could get away with this?", Narcissa agreed.

They could still hear sounds of the mayhem back at the camp grounds. Then they heard someone shuffling through the brush off the trail.

"Hello! Anyone out there?", Harry called out.

"Better not", Hermione stopped Harry and his brother from investigating. "We don't know who's out there".

They could just barely make out a figure in the darkness where moon light didn't reach.

"Morsmordre!", he called out.

A beam of green light shot skyward, where it looked at though it hit an invisible barrier. It spread out, forming a thick mist, then it began to take shape. It was a skull with a serpent coming out of its mouth. It glowed green, casting a green tinge all around the ground below, like a hideous florescent sign.

Seconds later, they heard the apparition of a large group of wizards: "Get down!", Harry ordered.

"Stupify!", about a couple dozen wands opened up, sending flashes of red over their heads, so close it felt as though a strong wind was blowing through their hair. Red blasts flew everywhere: into the surrounding trees, ricocheting off the trunks of trees, some back at the casters.

"Cease fire!", Lucius called out. "We have civilians here! Stop firing at my guests!"

They ceased, and everyone rose.

"Which one of you did it?", Amos Diggory demanded.

"It wasn't us!", Hermione called out. "We heard the incantation coming from over there"

"An incantation, you say. You seem to know quite a bit about conjuring the Dark Mark, Missy..."

Barty Crouch was also there: "Malfoy, it was you, wasn't it? You're one of them".

"You know good and well I was cleared. Even if I did, why would I do that in front of all these witnesses?"

"If you Confunded them..."

"I assure you, we aren't Confunded", Harry explained. "That can be checked out pretty easily, you know. You are aware of my history? You know what happened to my parents? Why the _hell_ would I have _anything_ to do with _that_?", as he pointed up to the apparition in the sky.

"Yet you – all of you – are here at the scene of the crime", Diggory continued.

"There was someone", Hermione explained, "over there. We all heard someone sneaking behind the trees. I'm sorry, but we didn't see".

"They probably Disapparated", Arthur Weasley said. "You can't seriously be accusing Harry and his friends?", he asked, incredulous.

"I'd expect that from you", Diggory continued accusing.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I know there have been hard feelings between you and the Malfoys, but it's also a fact that Draco helped save your daughter's life, so I would suspect you would return that favour".

"Maybe we should check?", another wizard suggested. "We sent Stunners into the woods where the Young Lady pointed".

"Probably disapparated before we arrived".

"Can't hurt to see".

Diggory headed into the woods.

"Found something!", they heard Amos call back.

He reappeared, not with an unconscious culprit, but a small figure like a small child.

"Winky", Harry recognized the makeshift cloak she wore that she made from an old towel.

"She's been stunned", Diggory explained.

"I ordered her to stay at the campsite", Crouch said. "What's she doing here?"

"Let's hear what she has to say for herself", Diggory said. "Enervate!", he cast the reversal spell.

"Elf, what are you doing out here?', Diggory began his interrogation.

"There is bad wizards. People high in the air, blowing up tents. I is running away".

"Did you conjure the Dark Mark?"

"Wait just a minute", Arthur interrupted, "the Dark Mark is wizard magic that requires a wand..."

"She had a wand", Diggory said, as he displayed the wand.

"Hey! That's mine", Harry called out. "It went missing shortly after we ran into the woods to escape the rioting".

"Did you know there's a way to see what spells the wand cast, Elf?

"Priori Incantatum".

Harry's wand replayed the casting of the Dark Mark: "Deletrious", Diggory deleted the memory of it from Harry's wand.

"Can I have my wand back?", Harry asked.

"Yes, of course", he handed it back.

"Elf: you know there are laws that forbid non-humans from possessing a wand, let alone cast with one?", Diggory addressed Winky.

"I is not doing it! I is not knowing how!"

"Then where did you get this wand?"

"I is finding it, back there". She pointed back into the woods. "It was on the ground. I is wondering who might want it back, so I picked it up".

"So you found a wand and decided to have a bit of fun with it?"

"No, Sir, I is not knowing how… I is not knowing how to use a wand, I is not knowing how. I is good elf"

"Amos, there are very few wizards outside the Dark Lord's circle of followers who'd know how to conjure the Dark Mark. How would she know?"

"She could have learned..."

"Are you suggesting _I_ teach _my_ servants how to cast the Dark Mark?", Crouch asked, indignant.

"No, but she still gets around. No telling who she met, where, or when, who could have showed her..."

"This is beyond absurd!", Hermione called out. "Listen to her speak: her voice is high pitched and squeaky. We all heard the caster, and it was definitely a human voice… a _man's_ voice and certainly no house elf!"

"Then it had to be one of them!", Diggory pointed to Malfoy and his guests. He had a positively insane look to his eye.

"You do realize that you have accused two of the least likely suspects?", Arthur tried to reason with him, "Mr Crouch and Mr Potter. Do you really believe that Mr Potter, especially, would just stand by while someone here cast that spell without a peep of protest? Do you really think Mr Crouch would teach his house elf how to conjure the Dark Mark, or allow her to associate with those who do? Do you listen to yourself? Do you know how insane all that sounds?"

"OK, then...", Diggory conceded.

"You", Crouch addressed Winky, "you disobeyed my instructions to wait..."

"Please, Master, I is good elf… I was scared… tents blown up… people up high..." Winky was clinging to Crouch's legs. "I is sorry for running, I was scared of the bad wizards"

"I'm not interested in your sniveling excuses. I don't need servants that disobey, so this means clothes for you..."

"No, Master… Not clothes! _Anything_ but clothes..." Tears were flowing from her large, brown eyes.

Harry and Hermione didn't know what that was about.

"Mr. Crouch", Hermione protested, "can't you see how frightened she is? You knew she was afraid of heights, and still you sent her to the sky box. She saw the Roberts being levitated, she saw and heard the utter mayhem back at the camp site..."

"Mind your own business, Young Lady! I don't know who the hell you think you are, speaking to me like that. I already made myself clear: I don't need disobedient servants! _Now butt out_!

"Come, Winky"

Crouch left with the sobbing Winky.

"F'kin asshole", she said. "What was that all about?"

"He's firing her", Lucius explained. "That's how the binding enchantment is broken: give the house elf clothes. Normally, they wear cast off items".

"It's not fair, the way he treated her! Did you hear that other asshole? The way he couldn't even do her the courtesy of addressing her by her name, like she wasn't even human!"

"Well", Draco explained, "she isn't"

"That doesn't mean she doesn't have feelings! You saw for yourself!"

"Just the way it is..."

"It doesn't have to be that way!"

It is just this sort of things Lucius meant when he said half bloods and muggle born magi bring with them their muggle sensibilities that can't but help threaten the traditions of Magical Britain.

"It's going to be nearly impossible to get a Portkey now", Lucius announced, "best to Disapparate. We can leave from here. I don't think anyone will see or care if they do".

 **0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF**

The Daily Prophet was waiting for them when they got back to Privet Dr.

 **MAYHEM AT THE WORLD CUP!**

 _DEATH EATERS RUN AMOK!_

The Headlines took up half the front page. Minister Fudge lambasted for the lax security that allowed an international embarrassment mar the first World Cup to be hosted by Britain in thirty years… Utter chaos at the camp grounds… Lawsuits seeking damages… Speculations as to the motive of the Death Eaters: everything from a drunken mob that couldn't control themselves, to a warning that the first sighting of the Dark Mark in over a decade was a calculated reminder that Hewhomustnotbenamed's followers were still out there, to retribution for the prosecutions Madam Bones' office was conducting.

 _HEROIC INTERVENTION SAVES MUGGLES!_

" _This whole sorry incident could have turned into a real tragedy but for the timely intervention of Albus Dumbledore and his Order of the Phoenix. As during the last wizards' war, The Order quickly routed the mob of Death Eaters, preventing any loss of life, including the Roberts family – all of whom are muggles who were entrusted for their part in organizing the World Cup._

 _Alistair "Mad Eye" Moody, Remus "Mooney" Lupin, Daedalus Diggle, Ted and Nymphadora Tonks, Hestia Jones, Kingsley Shacklebolt, and Rubius Hagrid – whose name and wand were recently restored – apparated to the scene. The Death Eaters fled before any could be apprehended._

" _Alas, fate would seem to have denied me that quiet retirement", Albus Dumbledore said to this reporter. "While it is regrettable that none of these criminals were apprehended, it is of greater importance that innocent lives were protected. While the treatment of the Roberts is disgraceful, we should all pause to remember Voldemort's muggle hunts. I have no doubt but that their treatment was a prelude to much worse to come. I would also remind Voldemort's minions who still live among us: you can run, but you can not hide, and justice will seek you out. As for myself, I seek no reward for doing my duty, as both an official of the Ministry or as a man._

" _As for the Roberts family, the Obliviators have cleared their memories of the incident. It will take a few days before they're all feeling back to normal, as there was a lot they needed to forget. It is fortunate they will be spared any further trauma"._

 _As everyone who reads the Prophet knows, this reporter as long been a critic of our Chief Warlock, and long serving Headmaster of Hogwarts. In the interest of fairness, I will say this: we owe Mr Dumbledore a debt of gratitude. Do you agree? I leave that up to you to decide._

The next morning, Lucius Lutra apparated. He cast a silencing charm before speaking. Harry figured he'd bring news of Sirius.

"I need you to do some shopping for me", he explained. "Two cases each of Butterbeer and pumpkin juice, steaks, potatoes, fruits and veggies. Sirius is getting tired of fish morning, noon, and night".

"Not a prob", Harry replied.

"You see the _Prophet_?", he asked.

"I was there, and, I did see it".

"I used the occasion to drop in on the Ministry… It's disturbing, to say the least".

"What is?"

"Dumbledore was a very active opponent to reopening Sirius' case. It would also seem he was instrumental in arranging Sirius' disappearance..."

"You mean he tried to _murder_ my godfather?!"

"Not in so many words, but he made it clear he didn't want Sirius to ever leave Azkaban, and wasn't too particular as to how that was to be done. I also know why".

"And? Don't leave me in suspense"

"Sirius told me that James and Lily said that, in the case of both their deaths, that Sirius was to be given guardianship. There were two other names on that list: Frank and Alice Longbottom".

"So with Sirius in Azkaban, and the Longbottoms in St Mungos..."

"There was no one to object when Dumbledore declared himself your magical guardian".

"Did he have anything to do with what happened to the Longbottoms?"

"Now that, I do not know. We do know that they were tortured into insanity by Bellatrix Lastrange, her husband, and one unknown. There had to be some reason, and since Neville was the only other magical child born as the seventh month dies, that prophecy probably figures into it. Bellatrix and her cohorts had to find out their location somehow".

"Dumbledore… Dumbledore… I might have known...", Harry said in disgust. "What does he want from me? Why is he always interfering in my life?"

"I don't have all the answers, not yet, anyway. That he believes you destined to defeat Voldemort is pretty much a given at this point. Other than that, I can't say, and my guess is as good as yours".

Lucius returned to Owlery Holt with two cases of Butterbeer and pumpkin juice and other groceries bought at the market on Magnolia Crescent.

 _London: Ministry of Magic_

"I must protest in the most strenuous terms", Amelia Bones was saying to Minister Fudge.

"Protest all you like, but these are my orders: you are to suspend your arrests of Voldemort's followers".

"This is capitulation to terrorism, Mr. Minister..."

"Do you have any idea how embarrassing this incident is? The diplomatic corps is having a difficult enough time as it is, working it out with the Bulgarian Ministry. All I am asking for is a bit of breathing room".

"And the only thing the Death Eaters will see is that their attack on the World Cup has gotten them precisely what they want. We were fortunate this time – this time, Mr. Minister – there were no casualties. Who is to say what they will do next? I can't agree to this".

"Is that your final word, Amelia? If it is, I expect your resignation on my desk by morning".

"Then you shall have it".

Amelia Bones, John Dawlish, Clive Williamson resigned, and took half the Auror Corps with them.

 **0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF**

"I must protest", Lucius Malfoy made his case to the Board of Governors. "Have we forgotten so soon why Mr. Dumbledore resigned in the first place? How irresponsible it was, bringing a Philosopher's Stone into the castle. How negligent Mr. Dumbledore was to allow a professor possessed by the Dark Lord himself access to the castle for almost an entire term, endangering the lives of the children entrusted to Hogwarts.

"Don't misunderstand: I am as grateful as anyone that Mr. Dumbledore and his Order of the Phoenix showed up when they did to save the lives of the Roberts family and end the mayhem. I still contend that this is irrelevant to any qualifications to be the Headmaster of Hogwarts. We already know what that reputation has become in recent years. Yes, Mr. Dumbledore has faithfully fulfilled the Headmaster's position for four decades, but that is the past. It is the present that concerns me, and I do not believe any reasonable person would disagree that he is not fit to lead the school".

"Your objection is noted", Madam Longbottom stated, "I call for a vote on the appointment of Albus Dumbledore as Headmaster of Hogwarts".

The vote in favour was overwhelming to reinstate Dumbledore as Headmaster. The _Prophet_ carried the news the next day and also hinted that the reinstated Headmaster was bringing with him something surprising. Harry's summer was winding down.

 _Beaux Batons_

The first day back, Madam Maxime had a special announcement.

"This year, our school vill be involved in a very special event: the newly reinstated Triwizard Tournament. The last one to be held vas in 1872 before it vas discontinued due to the excessive number of fatalities. There have been efforts to revive the Tournament, but none successful until today.

"If you didn't know, the Triwizard Tournament vas established between Europe's largest and most prestigious magical schools: 'Ogvarts, the Durmstrang Institute and Beaux Batons. A champion selected from each school contested in three tasks held over a school term. The original intent vas to bring together students from the different nations so that they could get to know one another to further international relations and co-operation. These tasks are not easy, and vill be designed to test your abilities to the maximum. Historically, the Tournament vas 'eld every five years.

"In case you didn't know, the reputation of the Tournament became tarnished as, over the centuries, the tasks escalated in both difficulty and risk. Alvays vant to outdo the previous Tournament, things got out of hand, and the death toll unacceptably high. The fiasco of 1872 shut it down.

"This year, the 'eds of the three schools, the respective Ministers of Magic, and the Supreme Mugwump – Mr. Albus Dumbledore – 'ave agreed on a protocol that should eliminate any risk of accidental death, vile keeping the Tournament sufficiently challenging. To this end, only those 'oo are of age will be allowed to submit their names as possible contestants. Also, the prize has been increased from the traditional 1,000 Galleons to 10,000 Galleons. Due to the efforts of Mr. Dumbledore, the first in the series of revived Triwizard Tournaments vill be hosted by 'Ogvarts. Ve vill be spending some considerable time there, and I expect that you vill do your best to represent our school vell. The selection of the champions vill take place on the Sabbat of Samhein, or as some of you may know it 'All-O-Veen".

"I read about this Tournament", Hermione told Harry, "that last one was a total disaster. The second task involved a basilisk, and several students and judges died".

"I don't know about this, but I don't like it, to say the least. I don't trust anything Dumbledore's involved in. I mean, look at how he used his involvement with the World Cup to worm his way back into being Headmaster".

"I don't know… I mean, the chance to reunite with old friends, see the old school again..."

"Believe me, I've seen more than enough of Hogwarts last year", he reminded.

 **0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF**

Dumbledore was giving a similar speech.

"You're joking!", Fred called out, before thinking. He was expecting a reprimand.

"No, Mr. Weasley, it's not a joke. That does remind me, I heard a good one this summer. A hag, vampyre, and leprechaun go to a bar..."

McGonagall interrupted with obvious throat-clearing.

"Not the most appropriate thing to say, anyway, where was I? The Triwizard Tournament. This is the revival of a legendary test of magical ability. Three contestants compete in three events over the course of a school term. It is with pride that Hogwarts has been selected to host this year's tournament. This means, there will be no Quiddich Cup for this year..."

Lots of disapproval over this.

"I'm afraid the staff will be kept busy with the Tournament. We will be hosting guests from the other schools, the Beaux Batons Academy, and the Durmstrang Institute. I am confident that you will help make our foreign guests feel more at home. The whole point is to advance international relations and co-operation.

"To help correct some of the defects that caused the cancellation of the Tournament, the Heads of the three schools have decided to limit contestants to those of age: 17 and older..."

"No fair!", Fred and George called out. "We'll be seventeen in April! Why can't we have a look in?"

"I'm sorry, but the rules stipulate all contestants must be of age when they sign up. There's nothing I can do for you, I'm sorry. The three champions will be selected from the applicants by an independent judge..."

"I want in", Fred said after everyone returned to the Common Room.

"But how? You heard Dumbledore", George reminded.

"He also said an independent judge, which isn't him. We get our names in, and if we're selected, we're in".

"I mean, sure, we could use an extra 10,000 Galleons… How about you, little brother?"

"I… dunnow", Ron said.

"Three Weasleys up for selection, three times a better chance of one of us getting in".

"Yeah, but you heard: it's gonna be tough enough for the upper classmen".

"I'm going for it, with or without you".

 _Little Hangleton_

The locals still called the place the Riddle House, despite that the Riddle family nor anyone else lived there in decades. Fifty years ago, it had been the largest and grandest Manor for miles, the home of a local aristocrat. Now, most windows were long boarded up, the neglect taking its toll. The roof was missing slate tiles, the ivy growing up the sides untrimmed in as long as anyone could remember. The place was considered creepy, and not just for the state of disrepair. Back in the 1950s, this old house was the scene of an event that shook the lives of everyone calling Little Hangleton home. The whole family, the near elderly Mr and Mrs Riddle, and their adult son, Tom were discovered dead one fine summer morning. They had apparently died earlier, as they were still seated at the dinner table, in their dinner clothes, meal still half eaten.

It wasn't that anyone really cared, as the Riddles were despised. They were filthy rich, and loved to flaunt it to the little people, they were snobbish, and their son even worse in that regard. There was a scandal of sorts, Tom had run off to marry a common village girl, whom he abandoned shortly after learning of her pregnancy. He had returned, wheedling himself back into his parents' good graces somehow. The police were summoned, and suspicion quickly settled on Frank Bryce, the gardener. Frank lived in a cottage on the grounds.

It didn't help that Frank had returned from the war with a knee injury that left him with a permanent limp, and a raging case of PTSD. Back in those days, little was known about PTSD. He couldn't tolerate being in crowds, nor could be stand loud noises. A backfiring car would see him hitting the deck, yelling INCOMING! He had come to the country seeking peace and quiet. He kept to himself, showing up in the village as little as possible. Being locked up, accused of a triple murder, of which he proclaimed his innocence, didn't help.

Multiple pathologists were called in for the investigation, but none could offer any explanation as to how three healthy people suddenly died simultaneously. There were no signs of a struggle, no signs of violence, no chemical poisons detected in the bodies, or in their last meal. No signs of biological pathogens. The only unusual thing was the odd look of fright frozen on their faces. It is a cold case to this very day. Not being able to determine that murder had taken place, Frank was released. Naturally, an event like this kicks the rumour mill into high gear. The story told and retold over the years, speculation heaped upon speculation, until no one was sure what the truth was anymore. Naturally, suspicion fell on Frank, despite being cleared officially of any wrong-doing. This drove him even further into isolation.

Frank still lived in the cottage, supported by paychecks that arrived every month for his services as the gardener. The Riddle House was said to be owned by unknown someones via shell corporations, for tax purposes. Frank never met his employers; no one had ever come by to see how he was doing. Despite that he could have easily just screwed off, collecting his pay for doing nothing, he did his best to maintain the grounds out of a sense of honour and pride in workmanship. Due to his injury, and advancing age, this was becoming increasingly difficult so that the expansive lawn had largely gone wild. It was just the flower beds he could keep up.

Weeds in the flower beds weren't the only things that vexed Frank. Given the reputation of the house, village children had a habit of breaking in on dares. Sometimes, they would ride by on their bicycles to throw rocks at unbroken windows. They would ride their bikes over the lawn just for a chance to see the old guy come hobbling on his bum leg, brandishing his walking stick, yelling at them to "Keep off my lawn!", like a stereotypical old fart.

One night, Frank was awakened by the throbbing in his bum knee. He made his way to the kitchen to put on a kettle to refill his hot water bottle. He happened to glance out to the manor house. He noticed a light in an upper floor window.

"Damn kids!", he cursed to himself. The flickering of the light meant fire. Did one of these village kids finally go too far? Since he valued his privacy, and had no trust in the police, he didn't have a phone. He would have to go to the village if he wanted to place a call. By then, it may be too late. Against his better judgment, he took a key that hung by the kitchen door. He went to the front door, collected his staff, and headed towards the house. The front door was still locked, no one had kicked it in, nor broken the windows beside it to reach in and unlock it. No windows had been disturbed either. Maybe they climbed the ivy? He went around back.

There was an old service entrance, now almost over grown with ivy. He unlocked the door, and opened it quietly. The cavernous kitchen was quite dark, but Frank didn't need light as he knew the floor plan by heart. He made his way through the darkened house, alert to the sounds of footsteps or voices, the scent of dust and decay strong in his nostrils. The foyer, though, was illuminated by moonlight, through the leaded glass windows flanking the front door.

The dust that had accumulated over the years served to muffle his footsteps as he climbed the stairs. On the landing, he looked to his right, and saw where the light was coming from: a door slightly ajar, let a sliver of gold play across the dark floor. He headed that way, until close enough to get a glimpse into the room. To his relief, the room wasn't on fire as the fire was burning on the grate.

"...A little more left in the bottle, My Lord, in case you need more", he heard a man's voice, though it sounded uncertain.

"Not just now", came the answer: another man's voice, though unusually high-pitched, almost like a child's. "Move me closer to the fire, Wormtail", still a chilling quality to that voice, and it was obvious he was completely in charge. There was the sound of a glass bottle being set on the hearth stone. Frank heard something drag across the floor. Frank got a glimpse of the man pushing the chair. He was small, had a bald spot, and was wearing dark robes, giving him the look of a friar. Who ever he was working for was even shorter than this Wormtail, as he couldn't see anything over the top of the seat back. He must've been disabled in some manner, Frank decided.

"Where is Nagini?", Cold Voice asked.

"I… don't know, My Lord. I suppose she's gone exploring? Looking for rats? I'm sure she won't wander far".

"You will find her and milk her before we retire. I will need a feeding later tonight. This journey has weakened me greatly".

Frank wondered what sort of animal would be looking for rats, yet need milking?

"I shall see to it, My Lord… If I may, how long will we be staying here?"

"A week, probably longer. Our accommodations here are reasonably comfortable, if not ideal. It would be foolish to act prematurely. The Triwizard Tournament is our best chance, perhaps our _only_ opportunity".

"I've been thinking..."

"That's the one thing I do not require of you Wormtail".

"...If we got another wizard, it could be done sooner..."

Frank was wondering about what "triwizard tournament" and "get another wizard" meant. He figured this was code-talk, and that these were drug dealers awaiting a shipment. An obscure, out of the way village with a minimal law enforcement presence would be ideal for that.

"...if you'll allow me to leave for a few days, I can be back with a suitable candidate. It doesn't have to be Potter".

"Without Potter?"

"I'm not speaking out of any sympathy for the boy, My Lord. It's just that we could complete the ritual sooner..."

"I could use another wizard, that much is true".

"And Potter's so hard to get at, so well protected when he's here, and when he's not he's in France. It makes sense".

"So you so kindly offer to find a substitute, eh Wormtail? I wonder, if this deviation from the plan is an attempt to desert me? Has the task of nursing me become wearisome, Wormtail? Are you regretting your decision to come look for me?"

"Never! My Lordship! I would _never_ abandon you!"

"I disgust you, don't I?"

"No, My Lord..."

"Do not lie to me, Wormtail! I know you too well, I can see it in your eyes. I see it in your body language every time you come near. I feel the suppressed shudder every time you touch me".

"No! My devotion to you…"

"Is nothing more than cowardice and desperation. You wouldn't be here if you had any where else to go. How am I to survive when I require feeding every few hours? Who is to milk Nagini?"

"But you seem so much stronger, My Lord".

"Liar! I am no stronger, and these past few days have been enough to rob me of what little health I recovered under your inept care. Be silent!"

Wormtail fell silent at once. For a few seconds, there was no sound other than the fire.

"I have my reasons why it must be Potter, and I shall use no other. I have already discussed this with you, and I shall not repeat myself. I have waited twelve years, so a few more months will make no difference. As for the boy's protection, I believe my plan will neutralize whatever protections are in place. All I require of you, Wormtail, is a bit of courage, courage you will find unless you want to experience the wrath of Lord Voldemort".

"My Lord, I must speak", Wormtail said with a hint of panic. "During our journey, I have thought the plan over. Bertha Jorkins' disappearance won't go unnoticed by the Ministry forever. If I killed..."

"If?", whispered Cold Voice, "If? If you follow the plan, the Ministry need not know that anyone else has died. You will do it quietly and without fuss; I only wish I could do it myself, but in my present condition… Come, Wormtail, one more death and our path to Potter is clear. You won't have to act alone, by that time, my faithful servant shall have arrived..."

"I thought I was a faithful servant?", Wormtail asked with a hint of disappointment.

"This requires brains and a proved, unwavering loyalty, neither quality you possess".

"But I found you. I brought you Bertha Jorkins, didn't I?"

"That is true", Cold Voice said in a near whisper, as if talking was wearing him out. "A stroke of brilliance I wasn't expecting from you. Though you didn't know how useful Jorkins would be, did you?"

"I… I thought she might be useful, My Lord..."

"Liar! However, you did bring her to me, and she proved a font of information. Information I needed to formulate our plan. You shall have your reward, Wormtail, I shall allow you fulfill a role for me that many of my followers would give their right hands in exchange".

"What...", Wormtail hesitated, "did you have in mind?"

"Ah, Wormtail, your part will occur at the end. You wouldn't want me to spoil the surprise, now would you?"

"No, My Lord"

"I promise you this: you will have the honour of being as useful to me as Bertha was".

"You're… you're aiming to kill me too?", Wormtail asked, plainly worried about the answer.

"Wormtail, Wormtail, Wormtail, why would I want to kill you?" Cold Voice said in a silky tone. "I killed Bertha because I had to. Besides, she wouldn't have been much use to anyone after I got done breaking the Memory Charm put on her. Awkward questions would have been asked around the Ministry had she gone back to tell everyone she recognized you. Those who are supposed to be dead would do well to not be running into Ministry officials at wayside inns while they're on vacation..."

Wormtail muttered something Frank didn't get that made his master laugh, a cold, mirthless laugh.

"Memory Charms can be broken by powerful wizards, as I proved by questioning her. It would be a desecration of her memory to not use the information I extracted from her. Just one more to eliminate, and Potter's as good as mine. We will follow the plan, and I will hear no more talk of deviation, is that understood?"

Frank had no idea what these two were talking about, only that they had killed some woman in cold blood. There was no remorse here, instead, they found it funny. As if that wasn't bad enough, they were planning on more killings, one a boy named Potter, and the unnamed one who needed to die to clear the way to Potter. Whoever they were, it was becoming clear that they were sociopathic and/or mad. His better judgment was telling him to ease his way back the way he came, get to a call box, and alert the police. His staff slippery with sweat in his hand. It was too much: he didn't want to hear more, but couldn't help himself.

"Yes, My Lord"

"Good, now be quiet, I think I hear Nagini".

Cold Voice was now making hissing and spitting sounds. Frank thought he might be having a fit or seizure of some sort. He thought he saw something moving in the shadows. Closer to what little light entered the hallway, he saw a gigantic snake coming, slithering, leaving curved traces in the dust. It had to be at least twelve feet in length. There was no escape other than into the room where these two were so casually discussing murders. He thought the serpent must strike, but it didn't. It slipped on by without giving him any notice, following that hissing, spitting voice. He wondered if the unseen man in the chair could talk to snakes.

"Nagini has some interesting news", the Cold One said.

"Indeed"

"She says there's some old man just outside the door. He must've over heard everything we've been saying".

This Wormtail opened the door. He was with beedy eyes, pointed nose and face, and a bad overbite.

"Where are your manners, Wormtail? Invite our guest in will you?"

He stood aside to let Frank in. The serpent from the hall was curled up on a carpet in front of the fire, like a faithful old dog. The light from the grate cast spidery, dancing shadows on the walls.

"I don't know who the hell you are, or what business you have in this house", he challenged.

"That's where you are wrong, Mr. Bryce, I am the owner of this property, and it is I who has seen to your receiving your paychecks every month".

"Is that so? You should also know that my wife's expecting me back, and if I don't come..."

"That is the oldest trick in the book. You have no wife; no one knows you're here. Don't lie to Lord Voldemort, he knows… he always knows".

"A lord are you? I'm not impressed, if you can't face me like a man…"

"I am not a man. I am so much, much more than a mere man. I shall face you: Wormtail, if you would be so kind as to turn me around?"

"Are you sure?"

"Just do it".

Wormtail struggled to turn the chair on the rough floor. A leg snagged Nagini's carpet, she hissed at him. Frank got a good look at what was occupying the chair. Frank had seen plenty of horrors during the war, but nothing prepared himself for this. He involuntarily screamed, and screamed so that he didn't hear the next words this Voldemort spoke.

"Avada Kadavra!", there was a burst of green. Frank crumpled to the floor, dead before he landed.

Across the Channel, Harry woke, his scar burning like it was on fire. He had seen, but the memory of the nightmare was fading fast. For an instant, he feared that the burning he felt meant Voldemort was near. He recalled more details of the vision: Wormtail was there, whom he recognized right away, a dark room, an old man he didn't recognize, a green flash. He could recall no more, and the harder he tried, the more detail slipped away. He had no idea where this room was, but it clearly wasn't at Beaux Batons.

He couldn't quite get a handle on what had happened, but he was certain that Voldemort was on the move, had regained a physical form of some sort, and had cast the Killing Curse. That was not good, Voldemort's being in any condition to cast. He knew he'd need to alert Lucius.

 _Hogwarts_

In the main hall, a large sign was set up beside the marble staircase:

TRIWIZARD TOURNAMENT

THE DELEGATIONS FROM BEAUX BATONS AND DURMSTRANG WILL BE ARRIVING ON THE 30TH OF OCTOBER AT 6:00PM.

LESSONS WILL END ONE HOUR EARLY TO GIVE EVERYONE ADEQUATE TIME TO PREPARE FOR THE WELCOMING FEAST

"That's next week", Fred announced the obvious.

"At least we'll get out of Potions", Neville said.

The week was a frenzy of activity: suits of armour needed polishing. Grimy portraits needed cleaning, much to the distress of their subjects. Filch made sure every student wiped their feet before coming in.

By mid-week, a large crate stood mysteriously in the Great Hall. Dumbledore was frustratingly sparse with details, and the rumour mill took over: speculation on who would be the Hogwarts champion, the differences between the Beaux Batons students, the Durmstrang students, and themselves. What the contests might be, how difficult and dangerous, would anyone die this time? Fred and George were as determined as ever to find some way to game the system to enter despite being sixteen.

Friday morning, the decorations were up: silk banners displaying the red and gold lion of Gryffindor, the blue and bronze eagle of Ravenclaw, the green and silver serpent of slytherin, and the yellow and black badger of Hufflepuff. The Hogwarts coat of arms, the lion, eagle, serpent, and badger united around a letter 'H' hung behind the staff table.

There wasn't much concentration on lessons, and the profs didn't bother to push their students. As 6:00 arrived, students lined up along the covered bridge over the valley. The sky was thick with steel clouds, but fortunately, no rain.

The first to arrive was Beaux Batons. The delegation arrived in what looked like a futuristic airliner, silver, coming in over Black Lake as it made its final approach. Some wondered how it would land, seeing that Hogwarts didn't have a runway, Unlike muggle aircraft, there was no sound of jet engines, no apparent means of propulsion. The Beaux Batons coat of arms decorated its rudder. It had vertical landing and takeoff capabilities as it slowed as it approached the lawn between the castle and Hagrid's cabin. It extended landing pads before settling on the lawn. The wings folded up and out of the way.

The pilot, wearing the traditional airline captain's uniform extended the airstair. It was well known that Beaux Batons didn't follow the same traditions that Hogwarts did, that their curriculum placed more emphasis on teaching muggle ways, and that the school had a reputation for turning out technomages.

Durmstrang's reputation was for turning out dark wizards. They not only taught defense against the dark arts, but also how to perform those very arts.

The Durmstrang delegation arrived in a wooden sailing ship that surfaced from the depths of Black Lake. How that ship managed to get from where ever Durmstrang was located into the lake was anyone's guess. As soon as it surfaced, sails unfurled, though hardly necessary so close to shore.

Everyone made their way to the Great Hall. Dumbledore stood behind the owl shaped lectern:

"Would you join me in welcoming the lovely ladies of the Beaux Batons Academy of Magic and their Head Mistress: Madam Maxime".

This was the clue to open the main doors. They entered in a not so organized manner, all with a severe and serious look: all eyes forward, no smiles, hands behind their backs. They stepped up the aisle center dividing the tables. When they had all filled the aisle, they bowed sideways, hand out, and sighed to one side. Farther up, they did the same sideways bow, reach, and sigh to the other side.

They sprinted up the aisle, forming a double line.

"Bloody hell", Ron said.

As they reached the end of the tables, they criss-crossed while releasing what looked like blue butterflies that chirped like birds. These flew over the tables before disintegrating into blue sparkles that fluttered down to just above their heads before disappearing completely.

One girl was doing a series of back flips, her white gymnast's suit so form fitting she might as well have been naked. They stood before the crowd, below the staff table, and bowed in unison. Dumbledore went to meet Madam Maxime. He planted a kiss on the back of her hand.

Lots of cheering and applause.

Dumbledore rushed to the podium, motioning for silence:

"And now our friends from the north. Please greet the proud sons of Durmstrang and their High Master: Igor Karkarov".

Their entrance was martial; each in their dark brown uniforms with fur hats, carrying a staff, as they marched in precise lockstep. Every time they struck the floor with the staffs, sparks flew. The staffs flew from one hand to the other, almost too fast for the eye to follow. They twirled the staffs, again so fast they blurred. They broke into a sprint, some doing backflips, others flourishing their staffs. At the end of the performance, one held his wand to his lips and blew a great fiery dragon. This dragon circled the caster, then flew over the staff table before dissipating

"Blimey!", Ron announced, "it's him! Viktor Krum!"

"He's still in school?", Fred and George asked. These two didn't understand why anyone as famous and likely rich as Krum would bother with school.

Krum was walking with Karkarov.

"Albus", Igor called out.

"Igor"

Karkarov and Dumbledore embraced. Like Dumbledore, Karkarov was tall and slim. His hair salt and pepper, as he was a lot younger than Dumbledore. His goatee, with a tip that curled up, didn't completely hide his weak chin. Even though he seemed nice enough, his smile didn't reach his eyes, which remained cold and calculating.

"I trust life has been treating you well?", Igor asked.

"So far, the Fates have been most kind", Albus replied.

As for where the guests sat, Beaux Batons pretty much divided between Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Gryffindor. The Durmstrang students went with the Slytherins. Harry joined Hermione at the Gryffindor table.

"Long time, no see", the Twins greeted Hermione.

"Been a long time, you'll have to let me know how things've been going".

"Ummmm...", Ron started, "why is Filch setting out four extra chairs?"

Filch, wearing his old tailcoat for the special occasion, was indeed setting in place four chairs besides Dumbledore's spot. Th rest of the staff filed in through a side entrance. The heads of the houses, Snape, Flitwick, Sprout, and McGonagall. The new Defense professor, Alistair "Mad Eye" Moody, and Professor Hagrid, who gave a wink and nod to Harry and Hermione.

"Ladies and gentlemen", Dumbledore called out. "Welcome to Hogwarts, and I hope you have a pleasant and comfortable stay here with us. After the feast, we will be officially opening the revived Triwizard Tournament".

The gold plates filled with food, the glasses with drink. It was obvious the house elves had made a real effort to provide foreign dishes.

"What's this?", Ron asked about a large bowl of shell fish stew next to a large steak and kidney pie.

"Bouillabaisse...", Hermione explained.

"Bless you", Ron replied.

"It's French", she continued explaining, "it's really quite good. I had it on holiday".

"I'll take your word for it", he said as he helped himself to the steak and kidney pie.

"I'm definitely gonna start with that", Harry said as he ladled his bowl full.

"Me too", Hermione agreed.

"Excuse me, are you vanting zee bouillabaisse?", asked a tall platinum blond.

"Hello, Fleur", Harry greeted.

"'Ello, 'Arry, 'ave you finished viz it?"

Ron had turned several shades of red, and was completely tongue tied. He stared up at her, and the best he could do was make a gurggling sound,

"I think we're done", Harry said. He slid the bowl her way.

"It was excellent", Ron said even though it was obvious he never tasted it.

"She's a veela!", Ron announced as she was carrying the bowl to the Ravenclaw table.

"Actually, part veela", Harry explained, "her grandmother was a veela".

"You know her?", Ron asked

"Well, yeah, she's the captain of our Quiddich team, and she helped us out with Hagrid and Buckbeak".

"How do you, you know, concentrate?"

"Takes some practice", Harry agreed.

Half way through the first course, Ludo Bagman and Barty Crouch arrived to fill the two extra seats.

The second course included a number of desserts that weren't familiar to them. Once the plates had been cleared, Dumbledore stood for another speech. A pleasant sort of tension filled the Hall.

"The moment you have all been waiting for has, at long last, arrived. I'm sure you've been wondering about the crate that was delivered a few days ago. Soon, all will be revealed, but first, I would like to introduce Mr. Bartemius Crouch, the Director of the Department of International Magical Co-operation..."

Polite applause, but Crouch neither smiled, nor acknowledged, the applause.

"...And Mr. Ludovich Bagman, the Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports..."

Bagman received more applause which he acknowledged with a wave. Perhaps his popularity was greater for having been a Beater for the Wasps, or because he came across as a more likable character.

"Mr Crouch and Mr Bagman have put in a lot of hard work, putting together this revival of the legendary Triwizard Tournament. They will be joining myself, Professor Karkarov, and Madam Maxime on the panel that will judge the performance of the champions. The instructions for the champions have been established and agreed upon by Mr. Crouch and Mr. Bagman.

"The Tournament will consist of three challenges, spaced over the school year, that will test their magical ability, their courage and daring, their deductive abilities, and how well they face danger. The champion who accumulates the highest score will win both the Triwizard Cup, and 10,000 Galleons. The three champions will be selected by an impartial judge..."

Dumbledore waved his wand, and the crate with gold and black checks, began to disappear, from top down. What was finally revealed was a large cup that stood on a plinth. The brim being some seven feet above the floor. They couldn't tell whether the cup was made of stone or bronze.

"...the Goblet of Fire".

Once the crate had disappeared, Dumbledore stepped off the raised platform to embrace the Goblet. He murmured something no one heard. The Goblet erupted with a blue, cold fire.

"Those wishing to enter their names will need to write their name and school on a slip of paper and place it in the Goblet. You will have the next 24 hours before the Goblet makes its selections.

"I must warn you: this decision is not to be made lightly, If selected, you stand alone, and there will be no backing out. The Goblet represents a binding magical contract, so if selected, you will be obligated to compete in all three tasks. No changing your mind.

"Finally, to make sure no underage students succumb to temptation, I will be drawing an Age Line around the Goblet. If you are not seventeen yet, the Age Line will not allow you to pass. Come Samhein evening, the Goblet will announce the champions names. That's everything, and have a good night".

"An Age Line!", Fred said, "that ought to be easy to beat. Some aging potion, and we're in. How about it Ron? You gonna try? I'd invite you too, Harry, but you're not in Hogwarts let alone Gryffindor".

"I highly doubt it will be that simple", Hermione disagreed. "Dumbledore doesn't leave things like this to chance, and you can bet he's already thought of aging potion. I wouldn't".

"It's always like I say", George replied, "nothing adventured and no one gets blamed".

"I wonder where everyone's spending the night?", Ron asked.

Just then, he got his answer.

"Everyone, back to the ship", Karkarov was leading the Durmstrang students. "Viktor, you have enough to eat? Perhaps I can order the kitchen to send up some mulled wine, help you relax?"

"No, Professor, I don't need any, and I'll be ready", Krum answered.

"How about me? I could always use a draught of vine", another student spoke up.

"I wasn't offering, Polavski", the fatherly facade dropping. "I see you have also dribbled down the front of your robes, you disgusting boy. How does that reflect on Durmstrang?"

It would be a contest, to see who had the worst table manners: Polavski or Ron Weasley.

Karkarov stopped as he and his delegation drew up to Harry and company. He scanned Harry, slowly, a look of recognition. Polavsky, the food dribbler, said something to another student, pointing at Harry.

"Yes, that's Harry Potter", it was Mad Eye.

The famous x-Auror had taken over Defense Against the Dark Arts this year as a favour to the recently re-appointed Albus Dumbledore. Alistair "Mad Eye" Moody bore his battle marks. His face horribly scarred, half his nose missing, and the right leg from the knee down, replaced with a wooden leg with a clawed foot. He used a walking stick that could easily double for a club. His left eye was also gone, replaced with an electric blue eye, twice the size of a normal eye, held in place with a leather band. This eye could swivel in every direction, could see beyond any barrier, and even through the back of his head, something his students quickly discovered. The source of his nick, "Mad Eye", but only to his friends, Mr. Moody to everyone else.

Karkarov looked very uneasy, being in Moody's presence. It was as if he were seeing his worst nightmare materialized before him. The colour drained from his face.

"You..."

"Yeah, me. Unless you have something you'd like to discuss with Mr. Potter, I suggest you get moving. You're blocking everyone's way"

Students had indeed been piling up behind the Durmstrang delegation. Without another word, Karkarov got out of the way. Harry and Hermione went with the Beaux Batons students back to their airliner. Harry wondered when, and how, he might meet up with Draco. Ever since his second banishment of the Dark Lord, the thwarting of his next attempt at rematerialization from the diary, Harry was even more unwelcome at his own House. That Draco had been involved certainly didn't help his reputation any.

"Be nice if you could come to Gryffindor", Lee Jordan said. "We still have vacancies".

"Madam Maxime will be expecting us", Harry and Hermione explained.

The next day, during breaks, students filed into the Great Hall.

"Who's entered so far?", Fred asked.

"All the Durmstrang students", Cho Chang, the Ravenclaw, said. "First thing this morning".

"Anyone from Gryffindor?"

"I don't know. Wellington from Slytherin entered. Cedric's gotten his name in"

"That idiot?", Ron started.

"He isn't", Colin Creevey replied, "he does well in his classes. You just don't like him because Hufflepuff kicked our ass last Quiddich match.

"Still Hufflepuff's pretty boy", Ron dismissed.

"Well, Angelina said she's considering it".

"Ready, Gred"

"Ready, Forge"

Fred and George Weasley were also there, with their aging potion. They stepped up to the Age Line, took a breathe like a high diver ready to do a high dive. They jumped over the line, and at first, it looked like they'd done it. A second later, both were ejected forcefully. They skidded about ten feet along the floor. Both looked to be about 90, both with long, gray beards.

Everyone laughed at the spectacle. Even Fred and George had to join in as they got to their feet.

"I did warn you", Dumbledore said as he was entering the Hall, with a twinkle in his eye. "You'd best be seeing Madam Pomphrey. She's already treated Miss Fawcett, and Mr. Sommers, although their beards are no near as fine as yours".

Lee accompanied them, laughing all the way.

Madam Maxime led her contenders into the hall to submit their names.

Ron was still trying to chase down Krum for an autograph. Harry and Hermione finally caught up with Draco.

"It looks like Dumbledumbass finally found a decent DADA prof", he was catching them up on Hogwarts happenings. "Though his first day didn't go so well".

"Oh?", Hermione said

"What happened?", Harry asked.

"Ginny happened. That first day of DADA, everyone entered what looked like an empty classroom. You remember, just like our first Transfiguration class".

Harry recalled: the first day and no Professor McGonagall, just this tabby cat sitting on the desk. That's when Ron ran his big mouth with vile insults for the Professor when he didn't realize she was an animagus.

"Anyway, Moody was hiding, right beside the door, under Disillusion and Notice-Me-Not Charms. He began firing Stunners, knocked out half the class, but Ginny and her Ravenclaw classmates hit the deck. Anyway, she got a bit carried away and hit Mad Eye with a Cutting Curse. Sent him to the infirmary.

"Dumbledumbass was _pissed._ I guess he wanted her in detention until she sat her OWLs. Moody intervened with Dumbledumbass, saying that it was all his fault, that he was actually proud of her for figuring it out, and for not considering she'd know that curse. So Ginny got out of detention. Said hers was the first class he didn't completely stun. He did the same thing while teaching auror cadets at the Ministry.

"The next class, he asked how she knew, and she explained she smelled kippers on his breathe and knew he was there, hiding. I think Ravenclaw got at least fifty points".

"How did she learn?", Hermione asked.

"Your friend, Remus Lupin. It was after Wormtail. He was there, and was only too willing to include her in our defense lessons. That's how Mad Eye is running the class, like it was auror training. I suppose that's what he knows best. Unlike the other classes, he's working on defense against dark spells and curses. He even demonstrated the Unforgivables right there in class, casting them on these spiders. He even put _us_ under the Imperious".

"You're shitting me, right? You can go to Azkaban for that".

"Dumbledumbass is giving Mad Eye considerable latitude", Draco explained. "Maybe the one thing he's done right so far. Moody does know his stuff, unlike Quirrel and Lockhart. Unfirtunately, he won't be teaching more than one year, then back to retirement".

"Almost sorry I missed that. So, anyway, what's going on in Slytherin?"

"I wouldn't really know. I just sleep there. Most of the time, I avoid them. After Father got accused of turning against the Dark Lord, then after Ginny came to the Common Room, well, word got out the Dark Lord was prevented, once again, from reincarnating. If I wasn't _persona non grata_ before… that pretty much finished my reputation with the Death Eater wannabes".

"How the hell would they know?"

"Ginny was seen in the Common Room, so they knew she came looking for me. Then I guess word got around the Ministry, and from the Ministry to the sons and daughters of Death Eaters or their sympathizers, and from there straight into Hogwarts".

"I told the Weasleys to keep quiet about that".

"Either one or more of them couldn't resist telling, or maybe Arthur was ordered to tell, or they just figured it out on their own. Who knows?"

"What about Luna? The others?"

"Luna's father wasn't involved with Voldemort, and neither was Blaise Zambini's folks, or the Bulstrodes. They're letting Blaise, Luna, and Millicent alone, pretty much".

"That's good to know".

"So what's with your school?", Draco asked. "You and the girls drop in from something that looks like it flew out of _Star Wars_ or something?"

"Madam Maxime wants to prepare all of us to deal with muggles. We have computer lab, and driving lessons, familiarization with muggle culture. We have field trips where we go in civilian clothes to museums, concerts, and the malls and restaurants. Arthur would love it. At least, French magi don't look like complete fools when out among the non-magical public at large.

"She doesn't like the idea of pretending time stopped during the 13th century. It shows, and Beaux Batons looks like any muggle university".

"That is interesting. Fudge would never agree to anything like that".

 **0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF**

All the students assembled in the Great Hall. The decorations for Samhein were in place: bats flew overhead, jack-o-lanterns glowed. Dumbledore addressed the audience.

"The moment you have been waiting for", he said as he waved his hand, turning down the torches, extinguishing the candles, leaving the cold fire of the Goblet the main source of light, "the selection of our Champions".

He approached the Goblet, and the fire turned into normal flames, yellow and hot. A jet of fire shot straight up, and a scorched piece of paper fluttered down. Dumbledore caught it.

"The Champion for Durmstrang is Viktor Krum!".

There was no surprise there. The rest of the Durmstrang students were clapping his back, shaking his hand, and offering words of encouragement. Krum headed towards the staff table, and through a side entrance.

The flames turned yellow, and another paper flew out: "The Beuax Batons Champion: Fleur Delacourt!"

Some of the other students offered their congratulations; a couple of others put their heads on their arms to cry in disappointment over not being chosen.

The final selection: "The Hogwarts Champion is Cedric Diggory!"

The Hufflepuff table was ecstatic over having a Champion from their House. If Cedric won, it would go a long way to banishing Hufflepuff's reputation as the loser's house. The other Houses not so joyful that the Triwaizard Champion wouldn't be representing Ravenclaw, Gryffindor or Slytherin.

Barty Crouch was bringing to the table something; Dumbledore continued his speech:

"Congratulations to our Champions, and to everyone who entered their names in the Goblet. In the end, only one will go down in history, only one will hoist this Chalice of Champions, this Vessel of Victory: the Triwizard Cup".

The cover flew off to reveal the intricately engraved bronze and crystal Triwizard Cup. Dumbledore was too caught up in his speech to notice. Snape was the first to see something had gone wrong. The Goblet of Fire had not gone out. The cold fire was still there, and as Dumbledore approached, the cold fire turned yellow, and a fourth paper shot out. Dumbledore caught it.

"Harry Potter?", he said to himself.

"Harry Potter!", he announced.

Harry sat with Hermione and the rest of the Beaux Batons students. Harry made no move to come forward.

"HARRY POTTER!", Dumbledore called out more forcefully.

"You'd better go", Hermione told him, and began to shove him.

"No… no… no...", Hagrid told himself as he shook his head.

"He's a cheat", someone said.

"He isn't close to seventeen", another agreed.

Fred, George, and especially Ron glared at him as he passed the Gryffindor table. Dumbledore curtly handed him the slip of paper without a word. Harry headed out of the Hall. Snape was also glaring, no doubt sure he'd done it on purpose just to make his life more difficult.

Down the stone steps, towards a wrought iron gate that opened automatically for him. Fleur, Cedric, and Viktor were there, wondering why a fourth person was coming. Loud, angry, voices all talking at once, so no one could make out what was being said. For a man of his age, Dumbledore moved fast, grabbing Harry by the shoulders.

"Did you put your name in the Goblet of Fire?!", he demanded.

"Nooooo… Sir", he replied.

"Did you ask one of the other students to do it for you?"

"No, Sir"

"You're _absolutely_ sure?"

"Yes, yes Sir"

"But of course he's lying", Karkarov accused.

"The _hell_ he is", Moody defended. "The Goblet of Fire is an exceptionally powerful magical artifact and only an exceptionally powerful Confundus Charm could have hoodwinked it. That kind of magic is beyond any student wizard, certainly beyond anything a Third Year could accomplish, regardless of how talented he may be".

"You seem to have thought this out in advance, Mad Eye", Karkarov continued to challenge.

"It was once my job to think as dark wizards do, Karkarov, maybe you remember..."

"That isn't helping Alistair", Barty Crouch told him as he broke up the argument before it could turn nasty.

"We leave this up to you, Barty", Dumbledore said.

"The rules are absolute", he explained. "The Goblet of Fire constitutes a binding magical contract. Mr Potter has no choice: as of tonight, he _is_ a Triwizard Champion"

"Then I demand a redraw", Karkarov said, "if Beaux Batons can have two champions, then so should the rest of the schools".

"It's not possible", Crouch explained, "the Goblet went out after Potter's name came out. It won't reignite until the next Tournament".

"The hell you say, Mr. Crouch", Harry announced. "I'll end the argument right now: I'm not participating".

"You don't seem to understand", Crouch explained. "If you break a binding magical contract, your magic is bound for life..."

"In the first place, no contract is binding if it was entered into through force or intimidation, or fraud. There isn't a court in the land that wouldn't void any such contract. Look at this", he held out the paper with his name on it. "That's not my signature, not even close".

"Muggle courts, Mr. Potter. The Goblet doesn't work like that. I'm afraid you have no choice..."

"That's where you're wrong: I do have a choice. I can go back to the muggle life I had for most of my life. I'm not saying I won't miss it, the hocus-pocus, I mean. If that's what happens, then so be it".

"Harry", Dumbledore said, "you can't mean it"

"Oh, but I do, Professor, I can assure you, I'm willing to take that chance. If I am to lose the magic, then I'd advise telling Fudge right now so he can make the announcement that the Boy Who Lived has become a squib. I'd like to see Rita's article about that, but for now, I have better things to do".


	30. The First Task

**The First Task**

 _Hogwarts: Dumbledore's Office_

The whole office complex looked the same as Harry remembered it. Dumbledore had settled into his former office as if he'd never resigned. The rest of his staff returned to their former positions.

"Sit down, Harry", Dumbledore invited. "What do you mean, you will give up your magic?"

"You heard right", Harry explained. "Thanks to you, I lived most of my life as a muggle, raised by muggle foster parents. The only inkling any of us had that things weren't 'normal' (finger quotes) was the occasional eruption of incidental magic. Sometime a few years ago, I thought I might like Veterinary Medicine for a career. I see no reason why I can't go on to do that. I don't need magic to attend Uni, earn my degree, and start up a practice. I'm not saying I won't miss the hocus-pocus, it was nice while it lasted, but unlike Draco, or Luna, or Crabbe and Goyle, I can imagine life without it. I don't even have to give up the friendships I've made here in the magical world. No rules that say magi can't associate with muggles.

"You, yourself, helped write the rule that no one under seventeen can enter. We've seen what happened when Fawcett, and George and Fred tried to game the system. I don't know how my name got into that crock of shit – I certainly didn't put it there..."

"I believe you, Harry", Dumbledore interrupted.

"Then, doesn't it strike you curious that my name did get entered, and that I – of all the other students at Beaux Batons – was selected? You heard what your own Professor Moody said? That it would take some considerable magical skill to confund the Goblet? Something I can't do, certainly not without alerting either yourself, Mr Crouch or Mr Bagman. If Fred or George could have done it, they wouldn't have been fooling around with aging potions, would they?"

"I agree..."

"Then _why_ in the name of _Merlin_ would I enter that Tournament? You have someone here on your own campus with the ability to hoodwink the Ministry's own magical artifact – something that hasn't happened in _seven_ centuries – and you expect me to just walk into that trap?

"Not. Gonna. Happen, Professor. I can't think of anything other than that would be suicidally stupid".

Outside, there came a sound of thunk, thunk, thunk, and a banging at the door.

"Come in, Alistair", Dumbledore called out.

Mad Eye Moody entered and climbed the stairs to Dumbledore's alcove. The electric blue "cybernetic" eye scanned Harry and Albus.

"You heard?", Dumbleddore asked.

"Aye, I heard. Mr. Potter", he turned to address Harry, "we need you to participate in the Tournament..."

"You can stop right there, Mad Eye..."

"That's Mad Eye to my friends; that's Mr. Moody to you, Sonny".

"I'm not your damn son", Harry objected. "As I was explaining to the Professor, it would be _insane_ for me to walk right into a trap set by a wizard with the power to hoodwink the Goblet – something _far_ exceeding my abilities. I can assure you: I am not stupid, nor insane, and certainly not suicidal. Your threats of losing my magic carry no weight with me. That's assuming the claim is true".

"I can assure you, it's the truth: the Goblet of Fire is a binding magical contract that obligates the champions it selects to compete. You will lose your magic if you are not there for the first task. You're right. Mr. Potter, it would take extraordinary magic to hoodwink the Goblet. That's why I – we, the Professor and I – need your help, to uncover the identity of this wizard..."

" _T_ _hat_ is not _my_ responsibility! It isn't yours either as I understand you retired from the Auror Corps. Why aren't you taking this up with Madam Bones? As I recall, she is pretty sharp when it comes to cases like this".

"Mr. Potter, Madam Bones resigned soon after the World Cup", Moody explained. "Pius Thicknesse is still in the process of reorganizing the DMLE. When that damn fool Fudge ordered Madam Bones to cease with the arrests of Death Eaters, he made her an ultimatum: cease or resign. She called his bluff, and took all the best aurors with her. The DMLE can't help us, that's why we need you, Mr. Potter. We will take every precaution to see no harm comes your way..."

"You can't guarantee that, can you?"

"No, not 100%..."

"Not good enough. Gentlemen, you can forget about it. I'm not having another thing to do with this Tournament", he got up to leave. Alistair rose to stop him.

"We have a few more weeks", Dumbledore reminded.

Word got around quickly, and the next morning brought the news in the _Daily Prophet_ :

 _More Favoritism for the Boy Who Lived_

 _As if we needed any more proof that rules apply to everyone but for Harry Potter, the latest outrage is the selection of Mr. Potter as the second Triwizard Champion representing his new school: Beaux Batons. There is a reason why it is called the Triwizard Tournament, and has so been known ever since the first Tournament was held some seven centuries ago. Now, it would seem we have a Quad-Wizard Tournament, and a most unfair advantage to Beaux Batons as neither Hogwarts nor Durmstrang have two champions._

 _As if that were not evidence enough of an outrageous favoritism, the rules for the first of the revived Tournament are explicit: only those who are of age are allowed in. Mr. Potter is thirteen, yet he has been allowed to enter. Mr. Bartemius Crouch claims that there is nothing he can do to enforce his own rules, as he claims the decision of the Goblet of Fire is binding and final. This, I find hard to believe. It's his Department that set the rules; the Goblet of Fire is the property of the Department of International Games and Sports. Yet, somehow, Mr. Bagman, the head of that department, pleads ignorance as to how Mr. Potter was allowed to enter, and how it is that the Goblet chose four champions. This is the first time in seven centuries where this has occurred. What more proof do we need that what Harry Potter wants, Harry Potter gets. Can not even the Ministry itself say 'Enough is enough'?_

 _What's next? Does the Boy Who Lived become the next Minister of Magic should he so desire? Will Cornelius Fudge just step aside if he demands it? Are there no limits as to how far the Ministry itself will go to accommodate Mr. Potter's every whim? This reporter leaves that for you to contemplate and decide._

– _Rita Skeeter_

Another hit piece from the _Prophet._ At least this time, Madam Maxime and Professor Dumbledore headed off the hateowls before Harry ever saw them.

Harry caught up with Draco at the first opportunity. "I guess you heard?", he asked.

"It's all over the school", Draco agreed.

Indeed, it was. The Durmstrang students had made up these badges they all wore, and which they shared freely with the Snakes and Badgers. Everyone saw: "Support the true Beaux Batons Champion: Fleur Delacourt". Harry saw: "POTTER SUX" or "POTTER THE CHEAT". He was even getting flak from Ron, Fred, and George who insisted he tell them his "secret" as to how he successfully gamed the system. Fleur apologized profusely, insisting those badges and all the nastiness surrounding them wasn't her idea.

"I'll be needing the Marauders Map", he explained. "I need to see if we have another possessed professor, or if there's an impostor. Something isn't adding up here, and Dumbledore is being his usual, disingenuous self. I knew coming back to Hogwarts was a bad idea, but Madam Maxime insisted I come with the rest of Beaux Batons".

"I can't imagine giving up magic, but you're right not to place your trust in anything Dumbledumbass says or does. I'll have it for you ASAP, and thanks, it was a big help last year. By the way, good job on your performance at the Welcome Feast..."

"Not again, Draco".

"Well, it's true, you'd make a cute girl".

Harry's return to Hogwarts was becoming most unpleasant. The Badgers, especially, resented him for stealing Cedric's glory. Hufflepuff had very little glory, as the Lions, Eagles, and especially the Snakes, considered Hufflepuff to be the House of Losers. (The Badgers were Fred's and George's favourite targets of their pranks.) Hufflepuff had long been an also-ran for the House Cup, and the Quiddich Cup. Their one hint of glory was their beating Team Slytherin on the Quiddich Pitch at the end of the last term in a surprise upset. They didn't win the Quiddich Cup, but acted as a spoiler that sent the Cup to House Gryffindor. The one and only Badger who wasn't wearing one of those badges was Hannah Abbott.

It made Herbology almost as uncomfortable as Potions. Even Professor Sprout was being decidedly cold. He used to be on pretty good terms with Justin Finch-Fletchley and Earnie McMillan, but no longer.

At least when the badges began appearing on Beaux Batons uniforms, Madam Maxime gave a speech in their airliner, ordering her students to not wear them. She explained her belief in Harry's innocence, that he could not have put his name in the Goblet, and that the school should support both their champions. Fleur backed her up, and being the official, true champion, the rest of the students had to go along.

 **0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF**

Harry examined the Marauders Map carefully, looking for any dot with two names, and found none. There were no discrepancies between the names on the Map and those within Hogwarts. Every student, every member of the faculty, were who they were supposed to be. Not what he was expecting, and that made it all the more disturbing: according to Mad Eye, there were very few who could have confunded the Goblet of Fire: Dumbledore, Mad Eye himself, McGonagall, and the two officials: Bagman and Crouch, neither of whom were present, and wouldn't be until it was time for the first task.

He received an owlpost:

 _Dear Harry,_

 _Meet me in the Come and Go Room_

 _Lucius_

He was expecting this, having owled Lucius as soon as he could get off an owlpost. At the earliest opportunity, Harry headed up to where the entrance was under the Invisibility Cloak.

"I need to see Lucius", he chanted as he walked back and forth in front of an apparently blank wall. The door appeared.

"Harry", Lucius greeted. "You got my message".

"Lucius, and yes, that owl got through. There's something going on here, and I don't like it one bit".

"You're referring to the Triwizard Tournament? What have you said so far?"

"I held back one thing: I didn't mention anything about how my scar's been acting up lately. I also didn't mention a word of this dream I had back at the start of the term, before we came to Hogwarts".

"Tell me about it".

"I know there was a lot more to it, but all I remember is that Wormtail was there, in a dark room some place I didn't recognize. There was a huge serpent, an old man, and a flash of green. I didn't see, but I'm certain Voldemort was there as well. It looks like he's attained a physical form of some sort. I tried remembering more, but it's just not there anymore. I'm pretty sure he killed someone, I could feel it, the way the scar burned like I've never felt it burn before.

"I just know he's involved somehow, and now something that should not be possible has happened: I was selected as a second Beaux Batons Champion even though the rules state no one under seventeen can enter. I was entered and I know I didn't do it, even if I'd been confunded, or under the Imperious, I couldn't cross Dumbledore's Age Line. The Twins couldn't do it, and neither could Fawcett, or Sommers. It had to be someone who could get past that Line, someone over seventeen. As to who hoodwinked the Goblet of Fire, it couldn't have been anyone other than Dumbledore, Professor Moody, or Bagman or Crouch, but why? Why do they want me in that Tournament? To eliminate me, make it look like an accident?"

"You were right not to mention it", Lucius agreed. "This doesn't sound like a dream, but rather something that came from Voldemort himself, which would explain why you only recall what you already knew, namely, Wormtail. As for who, I would exclude Dumbledore. We know his opposition to Voldemort is genuine, even if his methods are highly questionable. As for the rest, I can not say. I wouldn't give them your trust just yet. As to Voldemort, who knows what he's capable of? That he just might have attained some physical form is certainly well within the realm of possibility. If that's the case, then that means his diary wasn't his only Horcrux".

"Then… _why_? _None_ of it makes any sense!"

"I'm sure it makes perfect sense to someone", Lucius explained, "Karkarov, the High Master of Durmstrang is a Death Eater. Sirius told me about him, as they were doing time in Azkaban".

"If he was, then how did he get out?"

"He turned states evidence for the Ministry. He named a lot of names, got a lot of Death Eaters sent to Azkaban. Once inside, they did a lot of talking. Needless to say, Igor Karkarov isn't the favourite person amoung at least half the inmate population. Given that he made good in another country, he's won a measure of respectability, though not completely. Some say that he is the reason Durmstrang has the reputation it does for the Dark Arts. I would watch out for Durmstrang's Champion, no telling what he might pull.

"It's no coincidence that the new DADA prof is none other than Mad Eye Moody – probably the best auror the DMLE has had this century. Dumbledore would want him close, if Karkarov is going to be hanging around Hogwarts. It was Moody who caught Karkarov after Voldemort's last rampage, sent him to Azkaban. He was none too pleased with the Ministry for exchanging leniency for names. He resigned over that difference of opinion.

"There is one thing that doesn't fit: Karkarov would have to be the very _last_ person who'd want to see Voldemort's return. After the way he turned on his fellow Death Eaters, I can't see how Voldemort could be less than displeased with his former follower. Yet, we've seen the renewed activity of those followers, the attack at the World Cup, the first appearance of the Dark Mark in over a decade. Just be careful around him for now.

"There is something else: a Ministry official has gone missing, a Bertha Jorkins. Sirius remembered her from Hogwarts: she was a couple of years ahead of James and his friends. He remembered her as being very nosy, but not exactly swift on the uptake, if you know what I mean. That's a dangerous combination. She went missing while on vacation to Albania, where Voldemort is known to favour. It wouldn't be too difficult to lure her into a trap".

"You think he got to her somehow?"

"He, or more likely, Wormtail. We know Voldemort can use life force to create a material form, as we've seen with Ginny and Voldemort's diary. He would also have learned all about the Triwizard Tournament as Bertha worked under Mr Bagman..."

"All the _more_ reason why I should decline..."

"That's the _one_ thing you should _not_ do..."

"Now you're sounding just like Dumbledore".

"Think about this: you don't participate, you lose your magic".

"What if I don't care?"

"You may not, but do you believe for one second Voldemort won't? You've defied him three times now: once, when you were a baby, the second time, when you chased him from Quirrel, and a third time, when you saved Ginny's life. Does Voldemort strike you as the forgiving type? Even if you no longer posed a threat because you lost your magic, do you think he'll just overlook the effrontery of your defiance? What about your family? Lose the magic, lose the wards that protect them. He just might come after Vernon, and Petunia for sure as a squib, and your brother Dudley. During his last rampage, his Death Eaters entertained themselves with muggle hunts. What surer sign of his power and vengeance than the destruction of the very one who left him powerless a decade ago and your entire family?"

Harry remembered: he wasn't the first one who thrice defied the Dark Lord.

"Then help us get out of the country. Vernon can put in for a transfer, and you could make certain he got it. Transfer to America, for example. Or Australia, that's even farther away".

"You may not have the luxury of the time. If you fail to show up for the task, you lose your magic right then and there. If Voldemort has agents inside Hogwarts, you could be rendered defenseless and an easy target for elimination the instant it happens. Since you already stated your intentions to not participate, Voldemort's minions will know soon enough, if they don't already. They _will_ be waiting.

"Leaving the country would be only a stop gap, I'm afraid. Voldemort couldn't allow you to run away, lest some of his more reluctant followers get the same idea. How many of his Death Eaters returned to their normal lives? Do you think they will relish the idea of his return? Some may, but a whole lot of them probably don't like the idea one little bit. You can be sure he'll send hit teams after you no matter where you go. He has no choice".

"I still don't like the idea, being a sitting duck, or the bait for another of Dumbledore's traps".

"I don't blame you and neither do I, and I'll have to do some more research. If there's any way out, I'll find it".

"I'll… think it over".

"That's all I ask".

How's Sirius doing?", Harry asked.

"He's fine, other than being antsy from being indoors all the time. He's always asking to go out, but it's never a good idea. Owlery Holt isn't that far from muggle homes and businesses. Too much risk of being seen, and the muggle public was warned about him. So far, no dementors have shown up, no aurors either. So far, they haven't gotten this far north. I don't expect that'll last forever. I guess you heard: Madam Bones quit?"

"I heard all right. Took all the good aurors with her. Not too sad to see her go, at least now she won't be snooping". Amelia Bones was investigating, trying to discover the identity of Harry's associates. She'd interrogated him several times already, ever since she discovered him giving the unfortunate Professor Quirrel a beat-down.

"I wouldn't be too sure of that. Once she gets her hands on a mystery, she doesn't let go".

"So now what?", Harry asked.

"I'll be infiltrating the Ministry. If there's any way to get you out of that tournament, I'll find it".

"Please do".

Neville caught up with Harry: "I don't know if it means anything, but before the break, Professor Trelawney made a prediction", he explained.

"What are you on about?", Harry asked.

"It was after class, and I asked her for help with the crystal ball. That's when she zoned out, and spoke in a voice none of us heard before. It didn't make much sense, though:

'The Master lies alone and friendless, abandoned by his followers. The Servant will begin his quest for his Master on solstice night. The Servant will reunite with his Master. The Master will rise more terrible than ever before. The Servant begins his quest on solstice night".

"I don't know if it means anything..."

"Thanks, Nev, I wish you'd told me sooner".

"What does it mean?", he asked. "Anything to do with Youknowwho?"

"It very well may", Harry explained. "Did you tell anyone else?"

"No, it's Trelawney. She's always saying strange things".

Harry remembered: solstice night was the night Pettigrew escaped from the Burrow.

"You should mention this to the Professor", Harry decided.

That the Servant had reunited with his Master was a given at this point. Where else could Pettigrew go after having his cover blown, after the whole Ministry knew he wasn't dead? The only remaining question was if the Master had become more terrible than before, or was that part of the prediction still in the future?

The expected invite to Dumbledore's office arrived.

"Harry, have a seat", Dumbledore invited.

"What's this all about?"

"Neville told you about Sybil's latest prophecy?"

"I told him he should tell you about it, yes".

"This is why it is so important that you participate. The Servant did go looking for his Master on solstice night. That was the very night that Pettigrew escaped from the Burrow. His amimagus status now known, he would have little choice. It is the second half of that prophecy that worries me, has his Master returned? Or will he?"

"Then that looks like all the more reason why I shouldn't have anything to do with that Tournament. If it has something to do with bringing Voldemort back, then it's a bad idea, almost as bad as bringing a possessed professor into the castle with a Philosopher's Stone.

"I don't know how Voldemort intends to go from that wraith-like form I saw a couple of years ago to a form with a physical presence that can return to his former power. I suspect that, however he does it, someone's gonna die in the process. Someone wants me in that contest, they put my name in the Goblet, made sure it spat my name back out. I can't help but wonder who that could be, but I have a pretty good idea as to why. Giving up my magic would be an acceptable price to pay if that ensures he doesn't come back".

"There are many things I don't understand myself, Harry. I don't know why he would want you specifically. Maybe it has something to do with how you defeated him a second time? It isn't certain that you would be his only key back to the world of the living, but what is certain is that he will come after you. Without magic, you will be defenseless against a wizard as powerful as Voldemort. That is why it is so critically important that you not allow that to happen, Harry.

"We, Professor Moody and I, also need to find out what his plans are, and for that, we need you. We will take every precaution to see no harm comes your way. Together, we can stop his return".

"Doesn't sound that way, based on what Professor Trelawney predicted..."

"You need to understand: Divination is the least precise branch of magic. The future isn't written until it happens. It's the choices we make here and now that determines the shape of the future. Your failure to participate, to lose your magic, just might be the catalyst that enables Voldemort's return to full power".

"Or participating allows it".

"That could very well be the case. We simply do not know, but we can make the best choices available to us based on what we do know. Voldemort is still out there, as you've seen for yourself".

"Is that why you brought the Stone into the castle? To see if he'd come after it?"

"In all honesty, Harry, yes. I knew for years now that if Voldemort was to make a move, it would be sometime after you started Hogwarts. It all fits, your prominence in his prophecy, that he considered Hogwarts his only true home. It is understandable why he would come to Hogwarts to make good on his promise to return. It was inevitable that you would meet. It was best for that meeting to take place on the third floor where the situation could be monitored and controlled. There's no telling what may happen had it occurred outside the wards. It is the reason Mr Longbottom came to you, as I placed a compulsion on him that sent him to the Slytherin dorms, and not to Professor McGonagall. There was really no threat to you, Harry, as we would have prevented his making the Elixir of Life".

"Tell that to Hermione..."

"It is unfortunate that Mr Weasley got involved. I wasn't anticipating that..."

"So you're going to pass the responsibility to Ron? That's pretty low..."

"Not to reassign blame, Harry, but to point out that sometimes plans don't fully work out as you'd expect. I don't need to tell you that. I take full responsibility for my miscalculations".

"What part of this new plan of yours that may not work out that gets me killed?"

"I won't deceive you into believing there is no risk, Harry. Of course there is. I can promise that you will have the best back-up available, myself, Mr Moody, Mr Bagman, and Mr Crouch – we will be looking out for you".

"I am not reassured: you do realize you just named every suspect with the ability to put one over on the Goblet?"

"Let us not forget Madam Maxime and Head Master Karkarov", Dumbledore reminded. "There is something you need to see", he said as he levitated the shallow basin from his cupboard. "Do you know what this is?"

"No", Harry lied. He'd heard about Dumbledore's Pensieve from Lucius.

"It's a Pensieve. It's used to store and view memories", he explained as it landed on Dumbledore's desk. "You just touch your wand to the surface to enter the memories".

The basin looked to be filled with something that could have been liquid, or a very heavy vapour. There was no telling. Dark, indistinct shapes looked like they were floating beneath the surface, much deeper than the Pensieve itself. As soon as he touched the surface, the image cleared. He seemed to be looking down through a skylight on a large room that was illuminated only by the torches burning in sconces along the walls, much like Hogwarts. He knew this wasn't Hogwarts, though.

It was an auditorium whose center of focus was one empty chair from which dangled chains to restrain whoever sat here. The auditorium was filled with magi, who were discussing amoung themselves. He couldn't see the entire room, being that his point of view was through a round window. As soon as his nose contacted the surface of the substance filling the basin, he was sucked in.

It was as though falling through a cold, blue nothingness, down a long shaft. He dropped into a seat right next to Dumbledore. He saw that he was sitting at a dais raised above the floor. The whole room looking more like a dungeon than a lecture hall, no pictures or other decorations on the walls, and, of course, no skylight above him, just more blank stone, so this was some sort of subterranean space somewhere.

A bailiff stood to announce: "Oy yez! Oy yez! Oy yez! All rise".

The conversations silenced as the 200 or so attendees stood.

"This special session of the Court is now in session. Bring forth the prisoner!"

There were footsteps, and a door in the corner opened. Three figures appeared: two dementors who where escorting a man. They held both arms with their dead, decaying hands as they glided towards the chair. Their prisoner took the center chair; the chains glowed with a golden light as they snaked their way up and over his arms, pinning him in place. The two dementors glided back the way they came, the door closing behind them. He could see that the power of these dementors, though they didn't affect him from inside a memory, affected those present. He'd felt it himself while at Azkaban.

Harry now saw that it was Igor Karkarov, but this time, he looked decidedly younger. His hair and goatee were black, no longer the salt and pepper he was used to. Nor was he dressed in fine robes, but rather a shabby, thin robe. He was shaking, and looked on the verge of fainting.

"Igor Karkarov", Harry looked to his left to see that Barty Crouch was addressing him. "You have been brought from Azkaban as you have given us understanding that you have important testimony".

"I do, Sir", he began and even though frightened, he still had that unctuous tone. "I'm well aware that the Ministry is seeking the Dark Lord's followers, and I wish to lend my assistance to these efforts".

There was a buzz around the room, some viewing Karakarov with interest, others with a profound distrust.

"Piece o' shit", Harry heard. He looked to his right, past Dumbledore, and saw that it was Mad Eye Moody. However, he was quite different. He still had both legs, and two normal eyes as he hadn't acquired the "cybernetic" eye yet. Harry couldn't help but wonder what the story behind that could be.

"You just watch", Moody continued his complaint, "Crouch made a plea bargain. Took me six months to track him down, and he'll walk. I say let him tell us what he knows, then ship his ass right back to Azkaban and the dementors. Let them deal with him. He's seen the light? Like _hell_ he has!"

Dumbledore made a snort of dissension.

"I keep forgetting, you don't like dementors", Moody said.

"I certainly do not and have said for the longest time that I object to the Ministry's employment of such creatures".

"Still too good for...", Moody was interrupted.

"You claim to have names for us", Crouch was continuing, "so let's hear them".

"You have to understand that Hewhomustnotbenamed operated with the greatest secrecy. He preferred that we – I mean his followers, of which I was one, but I now greatly regret ever having anything..."

"If there's a point in there, would you kindly get to it, or are you wasting our time?"

"Only Hewhomustnotbenamed knew who all his followers were, as for the rest of us, we never knew who all of them were...", Karkarov continued his testimony.

"Good idea, too", Moody said quietly, "with the likes of you in his ranks to turn 'em in to save your ass".

"The names, Karkarov, the names!", Crouch was losing patience.

"These are the names of some important figures, followers working right here in the Ministry itself. I offer these names as a sign of my deepest remorse, and as a sign of good faith.

"There's Antonin Dolohov. I witnessed him torturing Muggles and those who refused their support to Hewhomustnotbenamed..."

"And helped him do it", Moody added.

"Who was caught and sent to Azkaban not long after yourself", Crouch told him.

"Was he now?", Karkarov said. "I am delighted to hear it!"

Karkarov certainly didn't look so delighted, as one of his names was worthless.

"Anyone else?", Crouch asked.

"Yes, there's Rosier… Evan Rosier..."

"He's dead", Crouch said, "not too long after your apprehension too. Unlike Dolohov, he decided to fight it out instead of coming peacefully".

"Yeah", Moody said, "and took a piece of me with him", indicating the part of his missing nose.

"No… no more than he deserved!", Karkarov announced as he cast an anxious glance at the door, behind which the dementors were waiting to take him back.

"Do you have anything of value to offer us?", Crouch asked, growing more impatient.

"Yes! There was Travers: he helped murder the McKinnon family! There was Mulciber: he was the specialist in the Imperious Curse. He made many people do some horrific things against their wills… There was Rookwood..."

Now there was a buzz of recognition. Karkarov took this as a good sign that not all his names were worthless.

"Are you referring to Augustus Rookwood, of the Department of Mysteries?", Crouch asked, and Karkarov could see he'd finally struck gold.

"The one and the same, the Unspeakable who was Hewhomustnotbenamed's double agent. He passed along secrets from inside the Ministry itself. I believe he used a network of trusted, well placed wizards inside the Ministry and on the outside", Karkarov explained.

"We already have Travers and Mulcibur", Crouch announced, "you will be remanded to the custody of Azkaban while we deliberate..."

"Wait!", Karkarov called out, "I have another name: Severus Snape!"

"The matter of Mr Snape has been settled", Crouch explained. "Mr. Dumbledore himself has offered exculpatory evidence".

"If I may?", Dumbledore stood.

"What is it, Albus?"

"I want to reiterate: Severus Snape has served..."

But he's a Death Eater!", Karkarov called out. "He's got the Mark!"

"Indeed, Severus may wear the Dark Mark, but I can assure you he is no more of a Death Eater than you or I. It was at great personal risk that he served as the eyes and ears of the Order within Voldemort's Inner Circle. He did this completely voluntarily in order to make amends for a very foolish, youthful mistake. I want this on the record".

"Thank you, Albus. As for Mr, Karkarov, he shall be remanded to Azkaban while we deliberate", Crouch closed the special session. Harry caught a glimpse of Mad Eye, who was looking very skeptical about Snape's reformation.

The whole chamber seemed to dissolve as smoke. For a few seconds, Harry was alone in darkness. Then something else began to form… He was once again back in the same chamber, though this time, the mood seemed a good deal more festive, the same air of anticipation and excitement Harry felt just before the World Cup match got underway. This time, he was seated to Crouch's right. Dumbledore was also here, a seat over.

This time, Crouch seemed exhausted, and at the same time, fiercer. The bailiff opened the door, and Ludo Bagman entered. However, he hadn't yet obtained that middle age spread. Nor had his nose been broken yet. He was lean and muscular, at the peak of his Quiddich playing fitness. He took the special seat, yet its chains didn't bind him. He took this as a good sign, waving to the crowd, and even managed a smile.

"Ludovic Bagman: you have been brought before the Council of Magical Law to answer charges related to Death Eater activities. We have heard the evidence against you, that you betrayed Ministry information to Voldemort's followers. Before we pass judgment, do you have anything to say in your own defense?", Crouch announced.

"Your Honour, Ladies and Gentlemen, I realize I have been an idiot...", Bagman said. There were nods of heads in agreement.

"Truest words you ever spoke", Mad Eye told himself. "If I didn't know better, I'd say he took one too many Bludgers to the noggin".

"Ludovic Bagman: you were caught passing information to Lord Voldemort's followers. I suggest a sentence to Azkaban of no less than..."

Pandemonium broke out, curses of foul language flew, many stood shaking their heads, some their fists, at Crouch.

"I didn't know!", Bagman shouted over the din. "How could I? Old Rookwood was a friend of my Dad's! Never crossed my mind he could _ever_ be in with Youknowwho … thought I was collecting information for our side! Besides, Rookwood promised me a position in the Ministry once my playing days were over. You all know how limited the career of a professional athlete is!"

There was laughter around the room. Bagman knew how to work a crowd.

"We will put it to the vote", Crouch continued, "those in favour of imprisonment, light your wands", he addressed the jury box to his right. Not one wand lit. A woman juror stood.

"Yes?", barked Crouch.

"We would just like to congratulate Mr. Bagman for his _splendid_ performance in the match with Turkey last Saturday".

The whole auditorium gave Bagman a standing ovation. Ludo stood and bowed to the crowd as if he'd won another major match on the pitch.

"For fuck's sake", Crouch said in disgust to Dumbledore. "Rookwood get him a job? The day Ludo Bagman joins the Ministry will indeed be a sad day for all of us".

"Celebrity overruling justice, despicable", Mad Eye agreed. He could do nothing as Bagman left the court room, a free man.

The scene once again dissolved, only to be replaced with the same dungeon. This time, the mood was somber. No one was talking, all eyes forward. Crouch looked the grayest, most gaunt, he'd been so far. There was a nervous twitch to his right temple. He sat next to a willowy, blond woman who was quietly weeping in a lace handkerchief. She sat on Crouch's opposite side.

"Bring them in", Crouch ordered the bailiff, who opened the side door. Six dementors led a group of four to four chairs before the bench. One was a thickset man who stared blankly ahead at nothing in particular. Another was a thinner man with a nervous disposition whose eyes flickered around the room. A younger lady with sleek, shining jet black hair and hooded eyes took her seat like a queen on her throne. The last, a boy barely older than Harry himself. His straw-coloured hair over milk white skin dotted with freckles. A cow lick hung over his right eye. He looked positively petrified.

Crouch surveyed the four with pure hatred in his eyes.

"You have been brought before the Council of Magical Law for sentencing for a crime so heinous...", he began.

"Father! Please!" the young boy called out, "I didn't..."

The willowy woman was rocking back and forth, whimpering into her handkerchief.

"...The likes of which have seldom been heard in this Chamber", Crouch called out even louder. "We have heard the evidence against you and you stand convicted of kidnapping an auror, Frank Longbottom, and using the Cruciatus Curse on him to uncover the location of Hewhomustnotbenamed after his exile..."

"Please! Father! I didn't do it! I didn't know! Please don't send me back to the dementors!", Crouch's son continued his begging.

"… Failing to extract that information from Mr. Longbottom, you then proceeded to use the same curse on his wife, Alice Longbottom. As a consequence of your crimes, a young infant boy has been deprived of his parents. It was your plan to restore your master to full power so you could resume the lives of crime and violence you presumably led. Now I ask the jury..."

"Mother! Stop him! Don't let him! I didn't do it! Please! I'm innocent… I'm inno-o-cent!"

"...For a sentence of life in Azkaban for these defendants"

The jury lit their wands, it was unanimous. The crowd began to applaud as they had for Bagman. The attitude one of savage triumph. The dementors were returning, the defendants released.

"Mother! Don't let him do this to me! I didn't do it! I didn't know! Please, don't let him send me back there!"

Crouch's son was the only one who tried fighting the dementors: "Get your hands off me!"

The draining effect of the dementors was becoming obvious. The woman defendant turned to address the bench:

"Send us to Azkaban Crouch; we will wait. When the Dark Lord rises again, he will come for us. We, the most loyal, the only ones who looked for him! Then, Crouch, you – every last one of you – will be _pleading_ for death! _The Dark Lord will return_!"

"I'm your son! How can you do this? I didn't..."

"No son of mine would ever ally himself to Hewhomustnotbnamed, therefore, you aren't my son! I have no son! Now, take them away. Get them out of my sight!"

The willowy woman gasped and slumped. She had feinted.

"Father! Father! I wasn't involved!"

A second Dumbledore appeared beside Harry: "That should suffice", he said. "Let's go back", as he helped Harry to his feet. His sojourn amoung Dumbledore's memories ended with what felt like a slow motion back flip out of the Pensieve and into the office. Dumbledore looked over his half moon glasses:

"I hope this has given you some insight into those who have sworn to protect you. As you can see, Mr. Crouch has no love for the Dark Arts and those who practice them. It was a great sacrifice on his part, and the most difficult challenge of his life: sentencing his own son to life in Azkaban. As the Director of the DMLE, he authorized the Auror Corps to use every means at their disposal to end Voldemort's reign of terror, up to and including all the Unforgivable Curses. His orders were to shoot first and ask questions later.

"This incident with his son was a great scandal that cost Mr. Crouch his position, and any prospects for his winning election to the office of Minister of Magic. He lost his wife and son soon after the events you just witnessed. It was more than she could bear, and she wasted away. As for Barty Crouch Jr, his chances of survival in Azkaban, with hardened criminals and the dementors, were never good. It was, in essence, a death sentence.

"I hope you also gained insight into our Professor of Defense, Harry. You can be sure Professor Moody will take every precaution to see no harm comes your way. I hope I've been able to impress on you just how important it is to discover how you are being involved in this".

"That's assuming that wasn't just a performance for my benefit".

"Harry, Harry, Harry: I assure you, the Pensieve doesn't display fantasies. While it is possible to corrupt memories, that is quite difficult, and leaves obvious traces. Everything you have seen is how it happened, how I remember it. That's why I find the Pensieve so useful: it faithfully replays memories, including those forgotten details. Whenever I find my mind overloaded with thoughts, and that happens a lot at my age, it is most beneficial to unburden those thoughts. That way, I can view them at my leisure, and pick up patterns that would otherwise escape me".

Harry knew he'd be needing to inform Lucius, but forced that thought back before Dumbledore could pick up on it.

"There's still the matter of my godfather, Sirius. I know why you wanted him in Azkaban. He told me all about how James' and Lily's will named him and the Longbottoms my magical guardians. You also tried to deny him his day in court. When you failed, you tried to have him murdered".

"It was necessary, Harry. After the last wizarding war, no one was prepared to hear that Voldemort would be coming back, that they'd have to go through another rampage. There was no telling when that would happen, but after you survived his Killing Curse, I knew. That prophecy you somehow learned about..."

"The one that somehow slipped your mind and you neglected to tell me? That one?"

"I don't know how you found out, but yes, that one. I alerted the Ministry about it, and it was archived in the Hall of Prophecies. It was still green, still an active prophecy, so I knew Voldemort was not dead, and that he would be coming back. I could not allow you to live with a wizarding family for two reasons: the first is the blood ward protection you inherited from your mother. That required that you live with Lily's closest living relative: her sister, Petunia, your aunt. Secondly, you would be much safer with a muggle family, as that would be the last place Voldemort would come looking. Had he come back before your entry into Hogwarts, we would have enough advance warning to give you the protection you would need to survive. There was too much at stake to let you live as part of the wizarding world. I'm sure you've noticed, how much gratitude there is towards you? It would have been much worse had you been a part of this world, he would have known straight away where to find you. I didn't want you to know about Sirius, I couldn't take the chance you would prefer living with him. As for murder, I know nothing of that. There are still active Death Eaters in the Ministry, even though the Minister prefers to think otherwise. They couldn't get to him in Azkaban, but once outside, with the prospect of his release, and what he might say during a trial, I'm sure you can appreciate why they would want him eliminated. Retaliation for Regulus' betrayal of Voldemort is an additional motive.

"As for not telling you, I'm sure you can appreciate how that would be, telling an eleven year old boy about how he was marked by the most powerful dark wizard in three centuries. I believed that it would be best to tell you later, after you'd received enough of a magical education to deal with it".

"You've been manipulating me all along".

"Yes, that's true. I believe you are the one destined to put an end to Voldemort's threat once and for all. How do you explain that to a youngster fresh to Hogwarts, to the wizarding world? There is much I don't understand, even now, things I can't explain. Again, I believed it best not to lay such a heavy burden on your shoulders at this time.

"I may have been wrong to keep knowledge about your parents from you, and I ask that you forgive a foolish old man who as forgotten the resiliency of youth".

"Still believing you know best for others than they know for themselves..."

"If your meaning is that I care about you and your well being, I plead guilty as charged. I was close to your parents while they were students at Hogwarts. I was also invited to their wedding. I thought the world of them, and when we lost them, I was determined to see you safe and well cared for".

Harry decided that, for now, he would not bring up Dumbledore's attempts to raid the Potter family vaults that so alienated the goblins of Gringott's.

"Snape is a Death Eater..."

"That's _Professor_ Snape to you", Dumbledore interrupted.

"Professor Snape is a Death Eater, so how much can I trust him?"

"Professor Snape has my full confidence. His repentance is genuine, and he won't be following Voldemort if he does return. His value as a double agent was great, the information he passed to the Order, and the disinformation he passed to Voldemort, saved many lives. Since it is personal, it isn't my place to tell you, but you can be certain: he has your best interests in mind".

"Sure has a strange way of showing it".

"Professor Snape doesn't work with kids, especially children, very well. He also takes his position as Potions Master very seriously, and is a demanding instructor. He is here at Hogwarts under my protection. He did take Voldemort's Dark Mark, and is a suspect in the extensive catalog of Death Eater crimes. He is also the one exception, the only one to have second thoughts about joining Voldemort's ranks and live to tell about it. Your godfather's brother, Regulus, also took the Dark Mark. He came to regret it, but he paid for his second thoughts with his life. I have known Severus Snape for longer than you've been alive, all the way back to when he first arrived here at Hogwarts, so you can believe me when I say he can be trusted. As for the Tournament..."

"I'm still thinking about it".

"That's all I ask, Harry".

"I have a job for you", he said to Hedwig. They were in his cabin in the Beaux Batons airliner. "Take this to Owlery Holt", as he tied the letter to the owl's outstretched leg. Hedwig rode Harry's shoulder to the open door. "Good flying weather". With a hoot, the owl took off.

All the foreign students took lessons with the Hogwartians, though Harry was finding it more difficult than usual to concentrate. Those damned badges that kept flashing "POTTER SUX" were the least of it. The 24th was coming up fast, and he still hadn't decided whether to ditch or not. He was still awaiting Lucius' return post.

"Do try to concentrate, Mr. Potter", McGonagall was saying during Transfiguration. He was the only one who had not successfully turned a guinea hen into a guinea pig. This was their cross-species transformations. Even Neville, who usually was the last in the class, had done it.

"Sorry, Professor", he apologized, "a lot on my mind lately", he didn't need to explain.

"While I can appreciate the difficulty of your situation, the lessons must go forward. Is that understood, Mr. Potter?"

"Yes, Ma'am. I'll do better"

"See that you do".

 **0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF**

Lucius' post came after two days, requesting his presence in the Room of Requirement.

He had his computer out.

"First things first", he said. "I've been down to the Ministry, and I'm afraid it's bad news: they weren't lying. There is no way of getting out of participating in this Tournament with your magic intact".

"Then t'hellwiddit!"

"Not so fast, Harry. You will need your magic, based on what you've told me. I would like to review these memories Dumbledore showed you".

"How will you do that? Visit his Pensieve again?"

"It will be second hand, but should be adequate", he explained. "Just sit here, and slip on the headset", Lucius held the device out. Harry did so.

"Now what?"

"Just sit there and bring up the memories. I'll take care of the rest"

Harry recalled the first scene he'd seen in the courtroom, the interrogation of Karkarov. The memories just seemed to flow of their own accord, requiring no further effort on his part. Lucius saw and heard through the computer's monitor as soon as he loaded his memory thief program.

He was snapped back to reality as the program closed.

"I disagree with Dumbledore and Moody", he explained. "Their past experience has blinded them both. It's not Karkarov you need to worry about, it's Bagman".

"Why him? Wasn't he cleared?"

"Moody may have been right about his being the stereotypical dumb jock, but that's neither here nor there. Let me ask you: did he ever pay you what he owes you?"

"It was like pulling teeth, but yeah, me, Hermione, and the Twins got our winnings".

"Harry: Bagman's in some serious financial difficulties. He really fucked up with booking the World Cup. He's into some serious debt to the goblins, who are charging him their high risk loan rate. He might have gotten a batter deal from a muggle loan shark. We need to ask ourselves: what would he do to clear that debt? He has the motive and the means to enter your name in the Goblet of Fire. After all, it's his department which owns it, which knows it better than anyone".

"If it was a money issue, then how does he get paid? What does Voldemort have?"

"Besides the joint accounts at Gringott's, recall he's also the heir to the Riddle fortune. He hides behind muggle trusts and shell corporations so Gringott's isn't involved with the Riddle assets, but have no doubt: he certainly can clear Bagman's debts, for services rendered, of course".

"What does that mean for me?"

"Ludo Bagman probably has no idea as to whom he's serving, and likely doesn't care. As far as he's concerned, it's some consortium of professional gamblers fleecing the public at large again. That's what he'll assume: someone throwing the Triwizard Tournament for profit. As for how loyal to Voldemort he is, that remains an open question. He did pass information he shouldn't have, based on the history he had with Rookwood. However, his judgment was based on his celebrity status. That jury certainly wasn't reaching an objective verdict. He may be a dupe, or he may have acted knowing what he was doing, I don't know. Regardless, he will do whatever is requested of him so long as that debt is hanging over his head".

"What if it wasn't? What if his debts were paid in full? Then he'd have no incentive to do anything".

"You mean, outbid Voldemort?"

"Exactly".

"We could do it, the joint account access of Voldemort's followers", Lucius explained. "With the pass code, it would be no problem".

"Then let's do that. I'll owl Barchoke, set up an appointment. Let Voldemort's followers pay for Bagman's mistakes".

 _Diagon Alley: Gringott's_

"Mr. Potter, it's been too long", Barchoke greeted Harry after passing the security post.

"Between Beaux Batons and summer school, doesn't leave much free time, I'm afraid".

"I understand, so you wanted to see Ragnok, and it has to do with Vault 37? Are you sure about this?"

"Quite sure".

"Very well, follow me"

Barchoke led Harry to the uppermost floor, up there just below the dome. In the outer office, Barchoke announced Harry's arrival for his appointment.

"The Director will see you now", the receptionist announced his arrival into the early 20th century switchboard.

Ragnok rose to greet Harry: "Lord Guant, to what do we owe this pleasure?"

"It concerns the contents of Vault 37. The pass code is 'Magic is might'".

"I see…", he turned to his switchboard: "Griphook, report to the Director's office", he called his senior VP.

"What business do you have with one of the bank's own vaults?"

"You made a high risk loan to one Ludovic Bagman, Director of the Magical Games and Sports Department..."

"We do not discuss our clients' business", he objected.

"I'm not asking for any details, Mr. Director", Harry explained. "I wish to pay off that loan, principle and interest. Bagman doesn't need to know who settled his debt, and I would prefer it if he didn't know".

"That is most generous, and unheard of. Of course, all your business here is confidential".

Griphook arrived with the safe deposit box.

"Open up", Harry hissed in Parseltongue. The lid opened with a click.

Inside, all the keys to the vaults of Death Eater families. Harry picked out the key with the Mulciber family crest. He also noted that there was no key with the Parkinson family crest, so Pansy's mother had taken the necessary precaution to preserve their assets.

"Take what you need from this account to settle Mr. Bagman's debts, and add another 50,000 Galleons on top. I would also like to include a message: 'Do the right thing'".

"I can neither confirm nor deny our bank's business with Mr. Bagman".

"I understand, and if Gringott's isn't handling his loan, then nothing will be removed from this account. If Gringott's is handling the loan, it will be paid in full. Is that right, Mr. Director?"

"That, I can agree with. Will there be anything else you'll be needing today?"

"That takes care of everything", Harry agreed.

"Griphook, show Lord Gaunt to the apparition parlor".

 **0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF**

 _Hogwarts: Potions_

Today was double potions. The latest series of lessons was antidotes. Snape had announced that he would be testing their antidotes on a student "volunteer", making it obvious that he intended to "volunteer" Harry.

The class was almost half over when Colin Creevey entered the classroom. He was another Lion who disliked, and was disliked by Snape.

"Mister, Professor, Sir ...", he began in that mousey tone that showed just how terrified he was to be daring to interrupt Snape's class.

"Why are you disrupting my class, Mister ..."

"Creevey. It's Harry: Mr Bagman wants him upstairs. Said something about a wand inspection for all the champions. They also want to do a photo shoot, I think".

"When class is over, you can have Mr. Pot-ter..."

"Professor, Sir, that's not what I was told. Harry is supposed to come now".

"Very well, Pot-ter, you are excused. Leave everything here..."

"Harry won't be coming back. They said he should take his things with him".

"You've disrupted my class enough", it wasn't clear just who he was addressing, Harry or Colin. "Take your things and get out".

Harry packed everything away.

"Get back to work!", Snape snapped at the class as Harry was leaving.

"It's really amazing, isn't it?", Colin said as soon as Harry closed the door behind him. "I mean, what with you being Champion and all".

"Yeah, Colin, just fucking amazing", he said. "I get entered into a contest I'm not supposed to be in, that I never _wanted_ to be in… What's this all about, anyway?"

"It's a wand inspection, and there's a photographer here".

"Who'd be wanting photos?"

"I think it's for the _Prophet_ ", Colin explained.

"It just keeps getting better and better. The _last_ thing I need: the _Prophet_ printing more bullshit about me".

"Anyway, here we are", Colin announced as they arrived at a classroom. "Good luck, Harry"

It was one of the smaller classrooms, unused, the desks pushed to the walls to clear the center of the room. Five desks had been pushed together, draped with midnight blue velvet, to make a makeshift dais. Ludo Bagman was there, and so was someone he'd never seen before. She was wearing magenta robes.

Viktor Krum was standing in a corner, being his usual, moody, surly self, speaking to no one. Fleur and Cedric were conversing, and there was a paunchy man with a large, old fashioned black box camera.

Ludo bounded forth as soon as he saw Harry: "Come right in", he invited, "come right in. Our fourth champion. The other experts are upstairs with Dumbledore. It's nothing to worry about, just a wand inspection".

"Wand inspection?"

"Yes, to make sure your wands are in good working order. They are, after all, the most important tools of your task".

Harry wished he'd known about this before. If that were the case, he could have used his special wand to fuck up his student wand. No wand, no tournament.

"Where are my manners", Bagman continued. "Have you met Rita Skeeter, of the _Daily Prophet?_ ", was obviously referring to the woman in the magenta robes. "She's doing a small piece on the Tournament".

"Maybe not that small, Ludo", she said while eyeing Harry.

"Can't say I ever had the pleasure", he said. So this was Rita Skeeter who had done hit pieces about him. The last "journalist" he'd want doing articles about the Tournament. He wondered how bad it would be once that article was published.

Her golden hair was done up in strangely rigid curls that contrasted with her heavy jawed face. The fingernails at least a couple inches in length, painted crimson. She had an alligator skin handbag. She wore ridiculous bejeweled spectacles that reminded Harry of Luna's Spectrespecs.

"May I have a few words with Mr. Potter?", she asked, "Before we start".

"Certainly!", Bagman agreed enthusiastically, "that is, if Harry doesn't mind", he added as an after thought.

"Ummmm ...", Harry started, this being a most unexpected development. Nothing about interviews.

"It'll add a bit of colour, what with Harry's being the youngest Champion, and selected so surprisingly", Rita said as she made her way to Harry. Her hand took his arm with a surprisingly strong grip. He led him towards the door.

"Let's find some place quiet", she said as she led him to another door, "where we can have a pleasant conversation. Just be yourself". Inside was a broom closet. "This should do nicely".

Rita perched on an upturned bucket, and shoved Harry onto a cardboard box. The door closed, and in darkness he could hear her going through her handbag.

"Let's see… where did I put them… Ah!"

She took out a handful of candles, lit their wicks with a wave of her wand, and set them aloft to provide enough light to see. She spread out a roll of parchment over an unopened crate of Mrs. Skower's All-Purpose Magical Mess Remover.

"You don't mind if I use a Quick Quotes Quill? Make it easier to talk naturally", as she pulled out a long, very feathery, bright green quill. She sucked on the end, and balanced it on its sharp point. She was smiling so wide now that Harry could see she had three gold teeth.

"Testing, testing, Rita Skeeter of the Daily Prophet", she said and the quill began to write. Upside down, Harry read:

"The lovely, charming, Rita Skeeter of cutting wit and sharp quill that have popped many an inflated ego"

She tore that off quickly, crumpled it and put it in her handbag: "Excellent, it's working". "So, Harry, why did you decide to enter the Triwizard Tournament?"

"Ummmm...", he was trying to come up with a way to word it so Skeeter couldn't twist what he said into the opposite meaning. He noticed the quill writing even though he was saying nothing: _Harry Potter, a handsome boy of thirteen whose charming face is disfigured by an ugly scar, a reminder of a tragic past..._

"Ignore the quill", Rita ordered. She moved in closer: "What made you decide to enter the Tournament?', she asked again.

"I didn't. I don't know how my name got into that Goblet. All I know is I didn't put it there".

Rita raised an eyebrow: "Come, come, Harry: you needn't fear getting into trouble. If that were going to happen, you'd know about it by now. It's widely known you shouldn't've entered at all, but my readers _love_ a rebel".

"It's the truth: I don't know. I didn't do it, and I'm none too happy over being placed in this situation against my will, and without my knowledge".

"How do you feel about the tasks? Are you nervous? Excited?"

"Well, who wouldn't be nervous? We have no idea what those tasks are. I suppose that's part of the ordeal: the not knowing".

"People have died in this Tournament, do you ever think about that?"

"That was over a hundred years ago. Mr. Dumbledore, Mr, Crouch, and Mr. Bagman have stated that there will be more emphasis on safety this time around".

"You trust them? Weren't these the same people who said no one under seventeen would be allowed to enter?"

"Yes, I do believe them. Why would they want to see anyone die to confirm the worst fears about the revival? If someone dies, it's a great embarrassment for the Ministry, and do you think there will ever be another Tournament? Doesn't make sense, does it?"

"You've looked death in the eye before, haven't you?', Rita watched closely. "How would you say that's affected you?"

"Ummmmm ..."

"Do you think the trauma of your past made you keen to enter out of a sense that you need to prove yourself, to live up to your name?"

"Except I _didn't_ enter...", he was getting irritated over Skeeter's attempt to get him to admit to what she wanted.

"Do you remember your parents at all?"

"What kind of a question is that? Do _you_ remember _anything_ from the time _you_ were one year old?"

"If your parents were still alive, how do you think they'd feel about your being in the Tournament? Proud? Anxious? Angry?"

"How the _hell_ would I know! Professor Trelawney isn't teaching necromancy. Professor Dumbledore has forbidden the teaching of any of the Dark Arts. Surely you are aware of that fact? I can assure you Madam Maxime isn't teaching the Dark Arts at Beaux Batons".

He could almost feel the intensity with which Rita was scanning him. He avoided her gaze, to see what her quill had written: _Those startling green eyes filled with tears as our conversation turned to the parents he barely remembers._

"I have _not_ got tears in my eyes! You seem to have a defective Quick Quotes Quill: that one is just making shit up, not recording what was said"

Before she could answer, the door opened, dazzling Harry's eyes with the sudden increase in brightness. It was Albus Dumbledore.

"Dumbledore!", Rita called out in simulated delight. Harry couldn't help but notice the speed with which her paper and quill had disappeared, as she was now snapping closed the clasp on her handbag.

"You read my article on the International Conference of Wizards last summer?"

"Oh yes", he replied, a twinkle in his eyes. "I especially liked your description of me, how did you put it, an 'obsolete old dingbat'".

"Well, you see, Dumbledore, it was just my way to convey the feeling in the street that some of your ways are a bit old fashioned", she said without a trace of embarrassment.

"I shall be delighted to discuss with you the explanation for the rudeness later, but for now, Harry's presence is required across the hall. The wand inspection, you know, the reason why we're here".

Harry was glad to get away from Skeeter as he made his way across the hall. In the classroom, the champions were seated next to the door. Harry took the last seat next to Cedric. Four of five judges had taken their places at the makeshift dais: Ludo Bgaman, Igor Karkarov, Olympe Maxime, Barty Crouch. Dumbledore announced:

"Mr. Garrick Ollivander will be doing the inspections", Dumbledore announced the one and only honest shop keeper in Diagon Alley. He took the last place at the dais.

Ollivander, the old wizard of pale eyes, stepped to the center of the room: "How about we start with you, Mademoiselle Delacourt".

Fleur came forward, handed over her wand. Ollivander twirled it between his long fingers like a miniature baton. It gave off pink and gold sparks, like a Catherine Wheel.

"Good balance… nine and a half inches long… inflexible … rosewood, and containing… Oh my!"

"Zee 'air of a veela", Fleur explained for him, "von uff my granmuzzer's".

"Veela hair makes for some very temperamental wands that don't suit very many, which is why I never used it myself"

He ran his fingers along the wand, looking for defects like cracks. Then he cast: "Orchideous!"

A bunch of flowers burst from the wand.

"In good working order", he pronounced, as he scooped up the flowers to hand them to Fleur with her wand.

"How about Mr. Diggory next?"

Fleur smiled at Cedric as they passed.

"This is one of my creations", Ollivander announced as Cedric handed it over. I remember it well. It has a hair from the tail of a particularly fine male unicorn, must've been seventeen hands, that one. Feisty too, nearly gored me when I plucked his tail. Twelve and a quarter inches, ash, pleasantly springy. It's in good condition. You treat it well?"

"Polished it last night"

"Excellent", Ollivander congratulated.

He sent a series of smoke rings across the room.

"Your wand is in excellent shape", Ollivander rendered his judgment. "How about Mr. Krum next?"

Viktor slouched towards Ollivander and handed over his wand. He stood there, scowling, hands in pockets.

"A Gregorevitch creation, if I'm not mistaken".

Krum nodded without a word.

"A fine wand maker".

Ollivander turned the wand over and over: "The styling isn't quite the same as mine… a bit thicker… hornbeam with a dragon heartstring core … ten and a half inches, quite rigid … Avis!"

The hornbeam wand fired off a shot like a gun, and several small birds twittered, flew about the room, and out an open window.

"It's in good working order", he said as he handed it back. Krum slouched his way back to his seat.

"That leaves, Mr. Potter"

Harry handed over his student wand.

"How well I remember", he started.

Harry well remembered too, how he'd gone through damn near every wand in Ollivander's shop until he found one at least somewhat compatible. It was an OK wand that served its purpose, but not even close to his special wand – the one he dare not show here.

"Eleven inches … Cherry with a phoenix feather core … most unusual… Mr. Dumbledore's pet phoenix supplied the feather used to make the core"

That's what Ollivander said when he selected it, that it was unusual. Harry had asked what was so unusual about this particular wand. At the time, Ollivander said that this wand, though made forty or so years after another, shared the feathers from the same phoenix. That other wand belonged to one Tom Riddle. Harry never told anyone else, and he hoped Ollivander would shut up about that now as, without doubt, Skeeter's quill would burst with excitement at hearing that the Boy Who Lived and the Dark Lord shared wands.

Ollivander made Harry's wand pour forth wine and pronounced it in excellent condition.

"Now that the wand inspection is complete, let us be off to the Great Hall. No sense in returning to class this late", Dumbledore announced.

"Pictures!", the paunchy photographer reminded.

"How about the judges and then the champions", Rita suggested. "Then maybe some individual shots".

The classroom wasn't the ideal setting for photos. Madam Maxime cast everyone else in shadow no matter where she stood. Even though he should have been used to group photos, Viktor insisted in skulking as far out of sight as he could get away with.

Finally, it was decided that Madam Maxime would be seated with the rest of the judges around her. That made for a printable photo. As for the champions, the photographer wanted Fluer front and center, but Rita insisted in dragging Harry into greater prominence. Next came the individual champion photos. They were late to the serving in the Great Hall.

 **0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF**

"I'd invite you, Harry, but Dumbledore said Fourth Years and up", Pansy Parkinson was telling him about the Hogsmeade weekend Dumbledore announced.

"I have a way", Harry explained, "so's we don't get caught. An old family heirloom. I'll meet you outside the dungeon".

"What do you have in mind?"

"My father's invisibility cloak".

"I don't know about this", she objected, "it'll look like I'm talking to myself", Pansy complained as they made their way into the village.

"Just don't move your lips so much", Harry explained.

The Three Broomsticks was filled with students from all three schools, as well as other magical folk Harry seldom saw away from Hogsmeade, like the hags who weren't so adept at concealing themselves as wizards. They were fortunate enough to secure a small table towards the back. Pansy went to the bar for two butterbeers, and Harry could only hope no one sat in his lap.

He looked around, Hannah Abbott and Earnie MacMillen were exchanging Chocolate Frog cards the next table over. They, as well as all the Badgers were wearing "Support Cedric Diggory" buttons. These weren't bewitched to display anti-Potter slogans. Cho Chang and some other Ravenclaws were coming through the door, none of whom wore buttons. The Eagles, having no stake in the outcome, didn't wear badges, earning them accusations of a lack of school spirit. Pansy returned and slipped Harry a butterbeer under his cloak.

"So what have you decided?", she asked.

"I'm still considering it", Harry explained, "for once, Dumbledore's being at least semi-honest with me. If I can avoid getting whacked..."

"Don't say that, Harry"

"...Maybe I can keep the hocus-pocus.".

"Isn't that your friend, Fleur?", she asked. Fleur was there with some of the other girls, but now, that air of confidence was showing signs of cracks. Guys were flocking around her.

"Yep, though she's not looking quite so confident, now that the first task is drawing near. Can't say I blame her…

"Here comes the Golden Boy".

Cedric was now arriving, a gaggle of fangurls surrounding him. For once, Harry wasn't the center of attention, and that suited him just fine. Cedric, with his pretty boy looks, the straight nose and gray eyes, tall and fit, with no sign of his terrible injuries from Quirrel's Stunner, attracted loads of girls, even Sixth and Seventh Years. Always wanting him to autograph book bags or anything else that was handy. Let him enjoy it until he discovered for himself that being an "icon" wasn't all it was cracked up to be.

Even Cedric was looking a bit less certain, though none of the girls around him looked like they'd noticed.

"Pregame jitters", Pansy said.

"Huh?", Harry asked.

"I mean Cedric, looks like he's got a lot on his mind".

"No wonder, no wonder. We have _no_ idea what we'll be facing, other than it's something nasty, dangerous, and possibly deadly".

"I thought this time Dumbledore was taking precautions to avoid the scandalous death toll that got the tournament canceled in the first place?"

"I don't recall his saying that he was ruling out serious injuries, though. Not looking forward to a long stretch in Pomphrey's infirmary or St. Mungos".

"I'm sure you'll do just fine".

"I wish I had your confidence; I mainly hope to survive the damn thing. I really don't care how I rate. Come in dead last, I don't care. If Beaux Batons wins, it'll be because of Fleur".

"Say, isn't that Hagrid?", she asked as she pointed.

At first, he wondered how he could miss Hagrid until he saw that he was bent over, concealed by the gathering crowd. Then he realized why he was bent over, as he was talking with Moody, as he caught a glimpse as the ebb and flow of the crowd made an opening. Harry stood to get a better look.

Moody's cybernetic eye was swiveling, surveying the gathering students. It was his way that earned him a reputation for paranoia. As he watched, the cybernetic eye locked on him. Moody put his hand on the small of Hagrid's back as he couldn't reach his shoulders. They were making their way towards his table.

"Miss Parkinson", Hagrid greeted loudly.

"Professor Hagrid, a pleasure, as always".

"Been enjoyin Care Uv Magical Critters?"

"Sure thing".

"Nice cloak, Harry", Moody said in a low voice.

"You can see through it?", Harry asked. This was the first indication anyone could defeat his father's heirloom. "What else can it – you – see?"

"Let me just say that it's been a big help. Man in my position can't be too careful", Moody left it at that.

"Meet me at midnight", Hagrid said, "an wear yer cloak. Dere's sumting ye needs ter see".

"Innyways, glad ter see ye's been havin' fun an doin well in my class", Hagrid announced so everyone could hear. "Shall we, Perfesser?", Hagrid said to Moody as he motioned towards a nearby table.

"We shall, Professor", Moody agreed.

"Hell do you suppose that was about?", Pansy asked.

"No idea...", Harry was lost in thought. If Mad Eye could see past the cloak, he wondered, who else could do the same.

Madam Rosemerta brought Hagrid a butterbeer in one of his oversized tankards, nothing for Moody. She looked on with disapproval as Moody drank from a hip flask. She preferred paying customers. It was well known around the campus that Moody prepared all his own food and drink. Too easy to poison an open cup he'd explained in one of his classes.

It was about 11:30 when Harry knocked at Hagrid's door. Inside, Fang began barking. Hagrid opened the door, looking out into nothing but night.

"It's me, Harry", he said

"Aye, been spektin ye", as he held open the door.

Inside, Harry pulled off the cloak: "So what's up? Why all the secrecy?"

Something was definitely different. Hagrid was wearing his best "Sunday go to meetin's", with a flower of some sort, as large as an artichoke, in a button hole. Never before did Harry recall his using his finest. It also looked like he was trying to do something about that unruly rat's nests of wire he called hair and a beard. The broken teeth of the combs were still stuck in his hair, here and there. That must've been painful.

"Ye'll see soon enuff, but ye's got ter promise: ye dint sees it from me. Cuppa tea beferr we go?"

"Yes, thanks. So why all dressed up?"

"Issa special occasion, too. Juss remember: ye dint sees it by meseffs, and make sure ye stay well outta sight. Shall we be off?"

Harry put his invisibilty cloak back on, and followed Hagrid to the Beaux Batons airliner. He wondered what this was all about. How did this involve his school? Madam Maxime was waiting, at the top of the airstair, and she, too, was wearing dress robes with a magenta cape over her shoulders.

"Olympe", Hagrid greeted, "bon-sewer".

"Rubius", the two hugged in greeting.

So Hagrid and Maxime were an item now? Why would he insist he eavesdrop on a date? That made no sense.

"Ye'll luvit", Hagrid was saying. "Issa mos' 'mazing ting. Ye needs ter promise, ye dint larn uvvit from me".

"Vhat izz zo mysterious, 'Agrid?"

"Shall we?", he offered his arm, which she took. Off they went, along the fringe of the forest, Harry had to trot to keep up given the length of each stride. Around Black Lake, with the castle well out of sight. Then into the woods, they must have been on the opposite side of the lake by now. Finally, they heard voices through the trees.

In a clearing, it looked like some sort of encampment. There were bonfires burning everywhere. There looked to be at least thirty wizards here. That's when Harry realized it wasn't bonfires. It was dragons.

They were inside a corral made up of heavy planks and stakes driven into the ground. Men were pulling on heavy chains attached to thick leather collars around the dragons' necks and legs, four or five to a dragon. They were resisting, rearing back, roaring into the night sky. Flames burned at their nostrils, tongues of fire shot into the night sky. One crimson dragon was shooting up mushroom clouds, like mini nuclear explosions. Their heads at least fifty feet above the men on the ground. The one closest to them was particularly reptilian in appearance, and was also the largest one.

"Hagrid!", one of the men called out, "stand well back! These guys can shoot fire some twenty feet, but I've seen this Horntail do forty!"

Another called out: "They're getting out of hand. Stunners! On the count of three: One … two … three! Stupify!"

Thirty or more wands opened up at once. Multiple red beams struck the dragons like bursts of fireworks. The biggest one closest to them, stood suddenly silent and motionless, the fire gone from the nostrils, but which were still smoking. Then it began to teeter. Men scattered. One by one, the now stunned dragons toppled. Several tons of dragon hit the ground with an impact that Harry figured shook the surrounding trees.

The handlers were magicking heavy steel pilings into the ground.

He now saw that the wizard who called out the warning was Charlie Weasley. Now that it was safe, Hagrid and Olympe approached the fence.

"Ain she a beauty?", Hagrid asked his date.

"You vuzz right, izz most interesting. Never seen real dragons before, let alone ziss close", Olympe agreed.

"Ah got ter spen a week wiff 'em in Transylvania", Hagrid recalled. "A giff from Harry". That explained how Charlie recognized Hagrid right off.

"I figured if we brought them in, while under a Sleeping Draught, they would wake up at night, and not be disturbed. Didn't work out so swell, as you saw, they didn't like it one bit".

Olympe walked around the fence to get a better look at the dragons.

"Hagrid! You didn't tell me you were bringing company! They're not supposed to know! The rules said no advance knowledge!", Charlie was complaining.

"Olympe say, she keeps our lil' secret. Ye can truss her"

"Only you would consider a visit to a dragon corral in the middle of the night a romantic date", Charlie observed.

"Four dragons, one fer each champeen", Hagrid observed. "So what dey gotta do? Fight 'em?"

"I don't think so, they just have to get past them, or something. We'll be stand by, Extinguishing Charms at the ready in case things get out of hand". If the secret was out it would make no difference. "They specified that we bring nesting mothers. I don't know why, but I'll tell you this: I don't envy whoever gets the Horntail. Temperamental bitch, that one. The rear end is as deadly as the front end"

He pointed out the long, bronze coloured, spikes along the tail, thus giving this one its name.

"What ye brung, Charlie?"

"This big one here is a Hungarian Horntail. We have a Welsh Green", he pointed to a green mound like a small hill. "And a Swedish Short Snout", as he pointed out a blue-gray dragon, and a Chinese Fireball, he pointed out the crimson dragon.

Five of Charlie's handlers staggered up to the Horntail. They were carrying a clutch of granite coloured eggs between them in a blanket.

Hagrid let out a moan of desire.

"Don't you even think about it! I made sure to count them all", he warned. "So, how's Harry holding up?", he asked.

"He's doin juss fyne. Some jitters bout the furss task, but who wouldn't? The Perfesser be lookin out fer him".

"I hope he'll still be fine after he's faced this lot", Charlie swept his hand over the dragons' enclosure. "I didn't _dare_ tell Mum what the first ordeal is. She's still having kittens over that article in the _Prophet._.."

He did his best imitation of Molly's worried mother-voice: "I thought they were all going to be safe! I thought there was going to be an age limit! How could they let Harry enter? He's way too young!"

Hagrid chuckled at that.

"She was in floods over that article: 'He still cries over his parents! Bless him, I never knew'", he continued mocking his mother.

Harry remembered that article all right: it was supposed to be about the Triwizard Tournament, but was really a highly "colourful" story about Harry. His picture took up most of the front page. The article (continued of pages five and seven) was filled with the bullshit Rita's quill was writing, shit he never said. "I still cry about James and Lily some nights, and I'm not ashamed to admit it" … "I draw all my strength form the memory of my parents" … "I know nothing can hurt me because they're always looking out for me".

There was more bullshit she derived from talking to others: "Harry has found his first love at Hogwarts. His close friend, Colin Creevey (which he certainly was not: he barely knew the guy, and most of what he knew about him came second hand from Neville and Draco) confirms that Harry is seldom seen out of the company of Pansy Parkinson, a stunningly pretty Slytherin girl". That was a gross exaggeration: he liked Pansy from his first days at Hogwarts, everyone knew that. However, she was hardly glued to his side 24/7 as Skeeter's article claimed.

The names of the other Champions were shoehorned into the final few sentences. She managed to misspell their names: "Victor" wasn't so bad, but "Sedrick" was an abomination, and unforgivable: it was an English name. Fleur wasn't mentioned at all.

Harry thought in disgust: "Not Molly, too" He wondered just how many had fallen for Skeeter's bullshit. Her article could give anything Lockhart could make up a run for its money. He'd seen, heard enough. He slipped away quietly, let Hagrid and Madam Maxime enjoy the rest of their date.

As he was headed back to the airliner, he heard someone. He put out his wand and stepped off the trail and waited. Even though it was dark, he recognized Igor Karkarov by the shape of his fur trimmed robes. He figured he'd seen Hagrid and Madam Maxime: they were hard to miss. That meant that the only champion who didn't know what was coming was Cedric. Would Madam Maxime break her promise? Would she tell Fleur? It was very possible. As for Karkarov, he was _certain_ to tell Viktor. Why else would he be there if not to spy? Karkarov would naturally be curious as to why Hagrid was escorting the Head Mistress of a competing school into the dark.

The next day, Harry caught up with Cedric before Herbology. He hid in an open doorway. Cedric, as always, had his fangurl admirers. He needed a quick word in private. It would be a delicate operation, so he pulled his special wand from its holster, took careful aim… "Diffindo!", he cast a well controlled charm that burst open Cedric's back pack, spilling books, parchment rolls, and ink bottles to the floor, the ink bottle shattering, splashing ink everywhere.

"Better not wait", he said, "no sense in more than one of us being late", he explained.

Harry stepped into the now deserted hallway: "Need a hand?", he asked.

"Thanks, Harry", Cedric said. "I just bought this pack, and look!"

"They don't make 'em like they used to", Harry said. "What else can you expect from Third World slave labour?", he asked.

"Dragons", Harry said in a low voice as he bent closer. "That's the first task, something to do with dragons".

Cedric eyed him with suspicion.

"Why are you telling me this? You're competing for Beaux Batons".

"Madam Maxime knows, and so does Karkarov. Madam promised she wouldn't tell, but surer than hell Karkarov's told Viktor all about it. I've seen them myself, the dragons, I mean. Now it's a fair contest again".

They heard Mad Eye clunking down the hall: "Best be getting a move on", he said to Cedric, who was collecting the remainder of his things. "Never mind the mess.

"Would you come with me, Mr. Potter?", Moody not so much requested as ordered.

"I was on my way to Herbology..."

"Never mind, I'll give you an excuse slip. If you would...", Mad Eye led him back to the office used by the former DADA profs.

The office contained a variety of unusual items. One was what looked like a large glass top balanced by its point on the desk, despite that it wasn't spinning. He knew this was a Sneak-o-scope, as he had one himself, though a good deal smaller.

Another item looked like TV rabbit ears, though bent into random zig-zags. It was softly humming as it vibrated. Another was a fancy mirror that wasn't showing a reflection of the room, but rather ghostly shapes. Was this another Mirror of Erised?

"Like my dark detectors, Harry?", he asked.

"I recognize the Sneak-o-scope, but what's that?", he asked of the "rabbit ears".

"A Secrecy Sensor: it detects lies and concealments. It vibrates and hums like that when detecting something less than honest. Although it's pretty useless here, being surrounded by students who're always fibbing about why their homework didn't get done on time.

"You're right about the Sneak-o-scope, but this is a more sensitive model that will trip a mile out. It's also a bit too sensitive here, so close to Hogsmeade, and especially the Hogshead"

The Hogshead was a seedy tavern that attracted a more questionable clientele than the more respectable Three Broomsticks. The proprietor of the Hogshead was Aberforth Dumbledore, Albus' younger brother. He had a reputation as one who knew when it was best to look the other way, and how to keep his mouth shut. During the last wizarding war, he was a useful conduit between the Death Eaters and the Order.

"Is that a Mirror of Erised?"

"This? It's a Foe Glass: it allows one to keep an eye on one's enemies. You don't need to be concerned until you can see the whites of their eyes, then you'd best get ready. You can see 'em right now: I've made a lot of enemies over my career", he explained.

"That was a decent thing you did back there", Moody got to his point.

"You...", Harry swallowed, "… heard?"

"There is very little going on in this school that I'm not aware of. You needn't worry. I won't tell you told a fellow competitor. Yes, the rules say that Champions are not to attempt to discover the nature of the ordeals before they're announced, collude, seek help from Professors, or other outside third parties. Cheating is also an old time Triwizard tradition. No doubt that Karkarov's informed Viktor all about the dragons. I expect Maxime's going to do the same for you and Fleur.

"Have you decided what you'll do yet?"

"I haven't a clue", Harry admitted.

"Here's a bit of illegal advice: play to your strengths. I've found this to be the best course of action".

"What strengths could I possibly have over a dragon? It took a half-dozen Stunners to drop just one".

"You have strengths if I say you have strengths. Think: what are you good at?"

"I… dunnow… Quiddich, I suppose?"

"I've heard you're a damn good flier. I'm still hearing about how you pulled off a Wronsky Feint when you were still playing for Slytherin as a Firstie".

"How does that help? All I'll have is a wand. They won't let me bring my Firebolt".

"There are more ways than one to get a Firebolt, and all you'll need is your wand. I leave the rest up to you to figure out".

He wrote up an excuse slip: "Show that to Professor Sprout. If there's any problem, tell her to see me. I've taken up enough of your time", Moody dismissed him.

 **0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF**

Madam Maxime was escorting her two champions to the first ordeal.

"Are you feeling good, 'Arry, Fleur?"

"Yes", Harry lied.

"Oui", he was certain Fleur was being just as dishonest.

"Zere is nozing to vorry about", Madam was saying. "Ve 'ave zee dragon 'andlers standing by in case zings get out of 'and. Do try to relax, and do your best, zat is all anyvon can ask, and no one vill zink any the less of you.

"'Ere ve are. I vill be leaving you now. Mr. Bagman vill giff you your instructions concerning zee first ordeal. Good luck, you two".

Harry and Fleur entered the tent. Cedric and Viktor had already arrived. Cedric was pacing around the tent, while Viktor slouched in a corner, saying nothing, and looking more surly than usual. Harry figured this was his way of dealing with the pressure.

Cedric gave a slight smile as he saw Harry, and Harry forced a smile back, his facial muscles feeling like they were being forced to do something that hadn't done in years.

"Good-o!" Bagman called out. "Come in, come in, make yourselves to home", he announced. Harry wondered if he'd been informed yet that he was debt-free, and ready to play the contest straight. "So glad you decided to participate, Mr. Potter".

Fleur took a seat at a small stool; Harry was too antsy to even think of sitting. Bagman was wearing his old Wasps robe that stretched tight across his middle age spread.

"Now that all the champions are here, the time has come to tell you about the ordeal. When the audience has assembled, I will be offering each of you one draw from this bag"

Bagman held up a royal purple, velvet bag closed with golden draw srings.

"You will draw a model of that which you are face. There are four different… ummmm… species, you see. Your objective will be to recover a golden egg. You will be judged on speed, and ingenuity in accomplishing your objective".

Cedric nodded to show he understood. Krum didn't react at all, confirming he already knew everything. Cedric resumed pacing, looking slightly green. Krum kept up the tough guy exterior, saying nothing, perhaps worried he'd throw up if he tried speaking. Harry certainly felt that way, but these other three agreed to this.

Soon, much, much too soon, they heard hundreds of feet passing by the tent. There was conversation, joking, laughing going on the other side of the canvass. What Harry wouldn't give to be out there with them, anticipating an exciting spectacle that placed them in no danger.

It seemed a second later that Bagman was opening the draw strings of his velvet sack.

"Ladies first", as he held the open sack up too high for Fleur to see inside.

She put in a shaking hand and pulled out a perfect, palm-sized model of the Welsh Green. It had a tag around its neck with a '2'. She was not surprised, but Harry thought she could put more effort into acting surprised. Madam Maxime had, indeed, told them what the ordeal was. He wondered if Hagrid knew she went back on her word.

Same with Krum as he pulled out the Chinese Fireball with a '3'. He didn't even blink. Karkarov had indeed told.

Cedric went next, drawing the Swedish Short Snout with a '1'.

That left the Hungarian Horntail for Harry, and a '4'. Bad luck getting the one dragon Charlie had pronounced the most dangerous, good luck in that he would be going last.

"There you are!", Bagman called out. "You have drawn the dragon you will face, and the numbers refer to the order in which you will enter the corral. I will be leaving you now, as I am doing the commentary. Cedric, you're going first, so wait for the whistle. Good luck, one and all".

Seconds later, the first whistle sounded, and Cedric stood up to go, looking greener than ever. Harry tried offering him good luck, but between the dryness of his mouth and the nerves, the best he could do was a hoarse grunt.

Harry took a seat next to Fleur, his hand in hers. Krum was looking at nothing in particular a few feet in front of his feet, as he pawed the ground. A loud cheer rose up, meaning that Cedric had arrived at the corral.

"Our first contestant, Cedric Diggory of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry..."

The crowd yelled, cheered, gasped, at whatever Cedric was doing to get by the Swedish Short Snout. The overheard commentary made it even worse as it fed overactive imaginations.

"Oh, that was a close one! … "He's taking chances, this one!" … "A clever move, too bad it didn't work!" … "Oh! That had to hurt!"

After about fifteen minutes, a raucous cheer came, meaning that Cedric got the egg.

"Good work there!", Bagman congratulated. "Now we will have the scoring, Judges, if you would"

There was no announcement, so they figured the judges were holding up their scores.

"Next up will be Fleur Delacourt of the Beaux Batons Academy ..."

Fleur was trembling from head to toe, gripping Harry's hand even tighter, her wand in her other hand.

The whistle sounded a second time, and she made her way out of the tent.

More cheering as she arrived to face the Welsh Green.

"I don't know if that was such a wise move!" … "Careful there, girl!" … "Soooo close!" … "That was unexpected… maybe… may be… yes!"

Ten minutes in and Fleur must have succeeded, as there was applause coming from the stands.

"Judges, your scores!", Bagman called out.

That left just Harry and Viktor, who avoided each other's gazes. The third whistle sounded, and Krum slouched towards the door.

"And here comes Viktor Krum of the Durmstrang Institute!", Bagman announced his arrival.

Alone now (though Krum wasn't much company anyway) Harry became much more aware of the physical signs, the racing heart, the fingrtips that tingled with fear. Yet also strangely detached, as though he was watching himself from the point of view of a disinterested observer.

"Very daring!", Bagman called out and whatever was so daring, the Chinese Fireball protested with a loud roar that made the crowd hold its collective breathe. "He's showing some nerve… and… yes! He's got the egg!"

That meant his moment had arrived. He quickly went through his plan, checked his student wand. All too soon, the whistle blew for the final time. As he stood, his legs felt like they were made of marshmellow, a Jelly Legs Jinx wouldn't've been much worse. He forced himself forward.

"I give you Harry Potter, of the Beaux Batons Academy!", Bagman announced as he entered the corral, the Horntail on the opposite side. She was protecting her clutch of cement-coloured eggs between her front paws. She was using her wings to block off sight of the clutch from the sides. Her yellow reptilian eyes following his every move. So far, she was out of flame thrower range. Her tail lashed back and forth, slashing yard long gouges in the hard packed earth.

He tried to work up some moisture in his mouth. As soon as the crowd's noise died down, he raised his wand to the sky.

"Accio Firebolt!", he cast the summoning charm. It was the farthest he'd ever tried summoning anything: the Firebolt was in Hagrid's cabin. He waited, would it work Then he saw his Firebolt flying toward him, stopping alongside, waiting for him to mount. He kicked off.

"I wasn't expecting that!", Bagman was saying, but Harry wasn't paying any attention. He kicked off, and a most amazing thing happened, the fear left him with the wind in his hair once again after all too long off the Pitch. As he flew higher until the upturned faces of the crowd looked like flesh-coloured heads of pins, and the Horntail no bigger than one of Aunt Marge's pugs, all fear left him. He was in his element, and the dragon another tough Quiddich team. He would be dodging fire, not Bludgers, but it was the same principle. He spotted the golden egg, gleaming amoung its cement coloured brethren.

He dived, the Horntail following his every move. He swerved, just as she cut loose with a tongue of flame that hit the spot he'd just been. Harry spiraled up, the dragon's eyes following him, if he kept this up, would she become dizzy? He dived again, watching, and swerved as soon as she opened her mouth. Once again, he dodged the fire, but not the tail that whipped around. One of its spikes caught his shoulder, ripping his jacket, and he felt the sting. The crowd was gasping in horror. Fortunately, it wasn't a deep cut. He flew around the dragon's back.

He realized the problem. She wouldn't leave her eggs, she was flapping her wings, but she kept her clutch between her front legs, protected. He knew he would never get an opening unless he could persuade her to try to fly. He flew one way, then the other, not quite close enough to make her breathe fire, but close enough to represent a potential threat. "C'mon, c'mon", he muttered to himself.

A little higher, and she stretched her neck as far as it would go, eyes still on Harry. She roared in frustration, her tail thrashing, but he was well out of range. She shot fire into the air, which he dodged. "C'mon, up, up. Come and get me".

Finally, she stood, wings spread, and she flew up. Harry dived as fast as doing the Wronsky Feint. She was temporarily confused, straining at the chain that held her back, wondering where he went. Harry let go of the Firebolt, and grabbed the golden egg as he flashed by. He ascended sharply to get well out of fire and tail range.

It was as though the sound track was playing again, the crowd cheering as wildly as the Irish fans at the World Cup.

"Will you look at that! Will you look at that!", Bagman was calling out. "Our youngest contestant has captured his egg with the fastest time! This ought to shorten the odds on Potter!"

Hagrid, Olympe, McGonagall, Professor Moody were gathering at the entrance. Dragon handlers were rushing onto the field to take care of the Horntail. Harry took a victory lap around the stands before landing by the entrance.

"Zat vas excellent!", Madam Maxime was congratulating.

"Ye dunnit!", Hagrid added, "I knew ye could duit. An gainst thuh Horntail too. Charlie say thah one's the wurss..."

"Thank you, Hagrid!", Harry called out loudly to prevent him from blundering and admitting he was the one who told about the dragons.

Professor Moody seemed quite pleased, his cybernetic eye dancing in its socket.

"Didn't I tell you? Nice and easy is always the best way".

"You'll have to get that tended to", McGonagall said as she led the way to the first aid tent.

Madam Ponphrey was standing at the entrance to a second tent. She pulled him inside, the interior divided into two compartments. He could see Cedric's shadow on the canvass divider. It couldn't have been too bad, at least he was sitting on the edge of his bunk.

"You were extremely lucky, this could have been a lot worse", Pomphrey said.

"Dragons! As if basilisks weren't bad enough! What will they bring into the school next?!" she complained as she went to get the potion.

"I'll need to clean this up", as she applied a purple paste that smoked and stung. She pinched the cut and healed it completely with a touch of her wand. He turned to go,

"Sit!", she ordered. "You can go for your score in a few minutes".

The problem was he didn't want to sit, but he also knew what would happen if he didn't follow orders. Pomphrey left to go to the next cublical.

"How does it feel now, Cedric?", he heard her ask.

Pansy, Hermione, and Fleur caught up with him at the first aid tent.

"That was brilliant!", Pansy congratulated. "If that damn Flint hadn't cut you, we'd've won the Cup".

"You were simply _amazing_!", Hermione congratulated. "You know, Krum didn't even think of flying. He hit his dragon in the eyes with some spell, but she broke half her own eggs. He lost points for that".

Back at the corral, with the Horntail removed, he could see where the judges were sitting: across from him on a dais with raised seats draped in gold.

Madam Maxime went first. What looked like a silver ribbon shot from her wand, it rose to form a large figure '9'.

Barty Crouch came next: '9'

"Looking good", Pansy said as she clapped his back.

Dumbledore: '9'

Bagman: '10'

"Huh?", said Harry. "But I got hurt".

"Don't complain about it", Hermione told him.

Last, Karkarov: '4'

"Why you biased shit-bag!", Hermione started. "You gave Krum a '10'; Madam Maxime gave your boy a '9'".

"Zat izz most unfair!", Fleur agreed. "'Arry vas vonderful. 'Ow izz it zat zee professional didn't zink of flying? 'Ee should 'ave lost points for zat"

"That's an absurd score", Pansy agreed. "Six points off for a nick, ridiculous!"

Charlie came to give him the good news: "You're in first place!", he announced, "0.2 points ahead of Krum!

"I have to go, but Bagman wants a word back at the Champions tent. I promised Mother that I'd owl her as soon as it was over. Tell her everything that happened. Congratulations again, Harry. That was a rather unique approach to getting one over on a dragon, I must say. We'll have to look into adding your technique to our dragon handling. Anyway, goodbye and take care".

Fleur and Harry entered the tent together. The left side of Cedric's face was covered with orange paste to heal his burn. Harry hoped it didn't spoil his pretty boy looks.

"Well done, everyone", Bagman came bouncing in like it was he who personally got one over on a dragon. "The next task is scheduled for 9:30AM, on the 24th of February, so you have a nice long break. However, we're also giving you something to ponder. If you examine your eggs, you'll see they open. Inside, you will find a vital clue that will greatly assist you in your next success. I won't keep you from your well earned celebrations, and thank you for your participation".

Harry, Hermione, Fleur, and Pansy walked along the edge of the forest, back towards the castle. They were deep in conversation, as Harry wanted to hear all the details of what the other three champions had done. As they approached the same clump of trees that led to the dragon corral he'd seen with Hagrid, they were ambushed.

Rita Skeeter was wearing green robes that matched exactly the colour of her Quick Quotes Quill, which was out and floating on a parchment suspended in mid-air at the ready.

"Congratulations on your win", Rita began her ingratiation. "May I have a quick word, Harry?", she asked. "How did it feel to face that dragon? What do you think of the scoring? How does it feel now, being victorious?"

"Yes, you can have a word", Harry told her. "You can have two words, even:

FUCK YOU!"


	31. Between the Tasks, Pt I

**Between the Tasks**

Harry and Hermione returned to the airliner, where a welcome celebration was in order for Fleur and Harry. Banners decorated a replica of the Common Room back on campus. Someone had set off some Filibuster's No-Fire Fireworks, so the air was thick with stars and sparkles.

CONGRATULATIONS FLEUR AND HARRY!

"Hail the conquering heros!", one of the students called out. Others were offering more butterbeer than they could drink, trays loaded with more snacks than they could eat. Lots of hand pumping and back slapping.

"It looks like we're finally going to win one!", another announced.

If Beaux Batons won, it would be the first time in two centuries. During the history of the Triwizard Tournament, Hogwarts had won the lion's share by far. Durmstrang was a distant third, though they were putting a lot of faith in their star pupil: Viktor Krum. Harry's win, and Fleur's showing, meant Beaux Batons had an excellent shot at the title.

Madam Maxime couldn't be missed as she towered over the heads of the rest of the students:

"I just vont to say 'Thank you', Monsieur 'Arry. Your shoving in zee first ordeal 'as done zee school proud. Mademoiselle Fleur, you also share in my gratitude and between you and 'Arry, vee 'ave a good chance at vinning"

"It's kind of you to say so, and I hope I don't let you down", Harry said.

"I do vish I had done better", Fleur said, "eef I didn't get caught by zee fire, I vould 'ave scored better".

"I'm sure you von't", Maxime said, "all vee can ask izz you to your best", she reminded both her champions.

"Yes, Ma'am", Fleur and Harry agreed.

Madam Maxime knew just how futile it would be to expect her girls to be attentive the next day, so she declared no detentions for missing/being late for class tomorrow.

It was good, Fleur and Harry stuffed themselves, to be feeling properly hungry, now that one ordeal was behind them, and the next three months off.

"Open it! Open it! Open it!", came a chant. They brought their golden eggs with them.

Harry was the first to figure it out: the egg had four sides that were hinged on the bottom. The top with an inset, knurled knob. As soon as he gave it a twist, the sides snapped down, but there was nothing inside. There came an ear-splitting shrieking that was as irritating as fingernails on a black board, and so loud, hands shot to ears. Harry quickly snapped up the sides, silencing the noise.

"Da fuck!", he said.

Not what anyone was expecting. Fleur tried her egg with the same results: that shrieking.

"'Ow izz ziss zupposed to 'elp us with zee next task?", she asked. "'Ee said zere vass a clue inside?"

"Maybe zee next task involves a banshee?", one suggested. "Izz kind of vhat eet zounds like".

("Sounds like someone in torment", another offered.)

("I don't think so...")

"I _highly_ doubt they'd make it that easy", Hermione objected.

"There's gonna be a whole bunch of very disturbed professors and students, with one of these being at Hogwarts and on the Durmstrang ship", Harry predicted.

"Zee message must be 'idden be'ind zee noise", one called out. "'Ow about a Fast Fourier Transform?", Harry saw it was Alesandra from the computer lab.

"There's a thought", Harry agreed. If only he had access to Lucius' tech, he thought. That reminded him: he'd be needing to get off an owl to tell him about the Tournament.

"It's the Ministry, though: would that occur to Bagman and Crouch? Seems highly out of character".

"I forget, zee Bree-tish are zo far behind zee times", Alesandra agreed.

"We're not gonna solve it tonight", Henri called out, "so let's party!"

Everyone wanted Harry to tell them all about how he solved the dragon problem.

"I got some good advice once", he explained, "play to your strengths, that's what I was told".

"'Oo told you zat?", he was asked.

"It was a while ago", he lied, "but that's what I did. I was always pretty good on the Quiddich Pitch...". He wanted to keep Moody's name out of it, as it was bad enough: Professor Hagrid's risking his position to tell his favourite x-student about the dragons as soon as Charlie told him all about them.

"You were better than pretty good", Hermione disagreed. "Team Slytherin had 'em all on the run while you were playing".

"Thanks for the vote of confidence, you ain't half bad yourself. Anyway, I approached it just like another Quiddich match, but with fire instead of Bludgers, and a golden egg instead of a golden snitch. At least the egg was bigger and stayed put".

'Ow did you cast zee Summoning Charm? Did zey teach zat earlier at 'Ogwarts?"

"I learned on my own, before Hogwarts, and I also took private lessons from this old friend of my Dad's".

The Fourth Years at Hogwarts were learning the Summoning Charm and its compliment, the Banishing Charm. Professor Flitwick had cushions covering the floor of his Charms classroom, but that didn't prevent his being accidentally tossed all about the room by ill-aimed or badly cast charms.

"Enough about me", Harry said, "how about the other champions, what did they do?"

"I used a Hypnosis Charm", Fleur explained. "I didn't know if it vould vork on zee dragon, but it did. She vas getting very sleepy, and ven it looked like she was vell under, I grabbed the egg. It vorked, but zee dragon voke up a bit too soon, and set my dress on fire. I put it out vith zee Aguamente".

"Cedric 'ad a good idea, but it didn't vork like 'ee expected. 'Ee used a Transfiguration to turn a rock into zis, yappy little dog. It vas running around, and zee dragon tried burning it, but it vas too quick. Zee dragon got very frustrated, and distracted. Cedric almost got away vith it, but made the mistake of looking back too soon, and he was caught in zee face by zee dragon fire. If he vas a leettle bit faster. He vas very lucky it vasn't vorse", one of the spectators in the stands explained.

"Viktor blinded his dragon vith zee Conjunctivitis Curse. She deedn't like zat, it hurt her, and she stepped on her own eggs. Given zat 'ee 'urt zee dragon, and made her break her own eggs, 'ee lost points, but zat Karkarov gave 'im as many points as allowed. 'Ee should have finished vorse zan 'ee did..."

"'Ell, Monique, 'ee should 'ave been deesqualified, zee jerk. Izzat vhat zey teach at zat school? 'Ow to inflict pain?"

"It would seem so", Harry said. "I've been hearing rumours about their Head Master..."

"Vhat rumours?"

"I can't say, because I can't prove it, but let's say: watch out for him, and keep a close eye on Krum. In case you didn't know, Durmstrang has a reputation for not just teaching defense against the Dark Arts, but the Dark Arts themselves. No telling what he's learned, or what he might do. Durmstrang won't play fair".

The festivities went on until 2:00AM when Madam Maxime finally ordered "Lights Out".

Harry still had the model of the Hungarian Horntail he'd drawn. They were allowed these as keepsakes. As he put it on his night stand, it stretched, gave a huge yawn, and curled up to go to sleep. "Dragons're OK", he thought.

The next day, Harry used the free time to get off a letter:

 _Dear Lucius:_

 _By now, you probably know I took part in the Triwizard Tournament. The first task was getting past dragons guarding their nests to recover a golden egg that they claim has a clue for the next task, come next February. I received some outside help from Mad Eye Moody that I wasn't expecting at all. I thought he was another "Inspector Javert" when it comes to rules and regulations. He sure didn't cut anyone any slack while he was rounding up Death Eaters. I suppose he figured he was evening the odds a bit, seeing how I shouldn't have been a part of it in the first place?_

 _Anyway, it looks like we were right about Bagman. I got a perfect score from him when it was obvious I shouldn't have, seeing my dragon clipped me. Fleur lost more points for simply having her uniform catch fire. Cedric got docked even more points for a nasty burn he received. I don't know if Bagman was doing business with Gringott's, or if he borrowed from elsewhere. Or if he's been informed yet that his loan was paid off. I don't suppose he'll be telling._

 _So far, no signs of Voldemort, and I haven't had even so much as a tingle from my scar. If anyone was going to pull something, it surely wasn't during this task, as it took place in plain sight of everyone. As for the next two tasks, I haven't a clue as I haven't figured out the golden egg's clue. I don't know which task will be the set-up, and I'm hoping that Bagman will be playing it straight come February and beyond._

 _The golden eggs we recovered for the first task are supposed to hold some clue about the next one, but I can't figure it out: they're empty. When you open them, all you get is the most horrible noise that doesn't mean anything. I'm beginning to wonder if they're not putting one over on us? Maybe they're concealing a message with noise? Maybe a Fast Fourier Transform would get some results?_

 _So far, my biggest problem is Rita Skeeter. You saw her latest article? Wasn't that just wonderful?_

 _Let Sirius know I took names and kicked ass._

 _Regards,_

Harry

He also wrote a letter home, telling Vernon, Petunia, and Dudley about the Tournament. It was the first mention, but seeing that Petunia was a squib, she would surely be hearing about it, if she hadn't already.

"Have another letter that needs to go to Owlery Holt", Harry said as he attached the letter to Hedwig's leg. "Another to 4 Privet Dr., don't mix 'em up".

Hedwig hooted in understanding before taking off.

 **0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF**

The students took their lessons in rotation: two days at each school. It was part of furthering international understanding and co-operation. Today, it was Beaux Batons turn at Hogwarts (Hogwartians were at Durmstrang and Durmstrang was at Beaux Batons). Hagrid was being on his best behaviour lately. They were meeting outside at the corral.

"Ah 'polagize in advance, but could all thuh boys stan well back, please?", that meant Harry, Henri, and maybe a dozen others, as there were very few males at Beaux Batons. They wondered what this was all about.

"My 'sistent fer t'day's lessin: Professor Grubbly-Plank", Hagrid introduced the back-up substitute professor, "if'n ye would, P'fesser?"

"Certainly, Professor". She disappeared from a gate facing the forest, and down a trail.

Harry was still wondering why, as, to his knowledge, Hagrid had never needed an assistant, even when one would have come in handy, as for last year's difficulties with the Blast-Ended Skrewts.

Grubbly-Plank led into the paddock a white, stallion unicorn. The unicorn seemed to glow with its own light, making the snow covering the paddock look slightly gray in comparison, despite that it was quite fresh and undisturbed.

Lots of "ohhhhhh's and ahhhhhh's" from the girls gathered at the rail fence.

"It's sooooo beautiful", one said, "where did Hagrid get it?"

"They're supposed to be really hard to catch", said another.

"Das thuh t'ing boud unicorns: when dey all full-growed, dey much p'ferr thuh feminine touch", Hagrid began his lecture from a safe distance from the paddock. "Dere's a small herd livin' in our foress. An ye's rye, unicorns is shy and 'lusive critters. Doan worry, Ah's not be keepin' him. After our lessins, he be goin back to his herd".

Harry knew why the herd was so small, no thanks to Professor Quirrel, and ultimately the Dark Lord. Judging from how his female classmates were carrying on, it looked like unicorns affected girls and women like how veela affected males.

Rita Skeeter came up to the railing around Hagrid's corral. This time, wearing sky blue robes. Harry saw, to his relief, that her Quick Quotes Quill wasn't anywhere in sight.

"Magnificent", she said of the unicorn.

"I thaw P'fesser Dumblederr say you wasn't 'lowed on ter campus?", Hagrid challenged.

"All he said was that I won't be permitted to interview any underage students without his being present, or their head of house if they're from Hogwarts. I'm not looking for an interview", she explained her presence, to Harry's great suspicion. Rita Skeeter wasn't one to make purely social calls. She did, however, keep her Quick Quotes Quill in her handbag.

"The _Prophet_ has a mid-week supplement on magical zoology. Maybe you'd like to do contribute an article or do an interview?", she asked Hagrid.

 _(Don't do it… Don't do it… Don't do it…)_

Harry and Hermione said nothing, but both knew saying anything to Rita Skeeter about any subject was opening oneself to something unexpected and likely nasty.

"Mebbe if'n ye're evar down by Hogsmeade, we kin discuss it over a butterbeer".

"I won't be taking up any more of your time, Professor Hagrid, Professor Grubbly-Plank. How about Friday afternoon, after the final class of the day?"

"Thah be fine", Hagrid agreed.

"Excellent!", Rita took her leave.

"I don't like it", Hermione whispered to Harry.

"No shit", Harry agreed, "get Hagrid talking about his critters and he never knows when to shut up. Get him going, and change the subject, and she has another hit piece".

"You there is the back", Assistant Professor Grubbly-Plank called out, "Miss..."

"Granger"

"Would you come up, if you please? I don't know what's so fascinating back there, but I'm sure it'll keep until after class".

"Yes, Professor". Hermione went to join the rest of the girls at the fence.

"Who kin tellus innyting boud unicorns?", Hagrid asked.

Hermione's hand was the first up.

"Yes, Mizz Hermione?", Hagrid called on her.

"One thing: unicorn blood can cure anything, but the cure comes at a very high price. You will lose half a lifetime every time you take it. When Pro..."

"Quy rye, Mizz Hermione", he interrupted before she could tell all about Quirrel and why he was poaching unicorns. "Thass why the Mins'try has long declared unicorn blood is an illicit substance. Not onny are unicorns quy rare, but takin' dere blood is also very dang'rous. Ye doan wannabe foolin' whit nuttin like thah".

One by one, the girls entered the paddock to give the unicorn pets. He wasn't the least bit nervous, being surrounded with girls whose maternal instincts kicked in.

"Hagrid", Harry and Hermione held back after class.

"Whud ye on boud? Ye doan wannabe late fer yer necks class?"

"It's important", Harry started.

"It's Skeeter", Hermione continued, "you _do not_ want to be talking to her. Look at what she's written. She'll twist your words".

"I doan see how, she asked boud critters. Ain nuttin she kin twist", Hagrid disagreed. "Ah would'n be saying nuttin boud nuttin but critters".

"Please, reconsider", Harry told him. "I'm sure she's looking for an angle about the Tournament. I wouldn't want to see you get hurt".

"Tankee fer yer concern, Ah'll take it under advisement. Now, yer doan wannabe late fer class", he dismissed them.

Neither of them liked the sound of that. They knew Hagrid all too well, his eagerness to talk about his beloved critters, even those no one else could love, and his trusting nature left him wide open to Skeeter's manipulation. Skeeter was after more than just another mid-week supplement.

Harry had an owl post waiting:

 _Dear Harry,_

 _Congratulations for your performance in this tournament you've been asked to enter. Of course, your mother and I are disappointed you won't be coming home fro Christmas. We'll see you still receive presents. Your brother will miss you._

 _We're looking forward to seeing your performance in the third and final task. Hope you're well, and that you have a Merry Christmas._

 _Your Dad,_

 _Vernon_

They had Double Divination this afternoon. The lesson was star charts and predictions. Professor Trelawney was waxing eloquent about Pluto and how it affected everyday life. Harry and Hermione weren't taking this lesson with the appropriate seriousness.

"I would think", she began in that fake mystical tone of hers, "that _some_ of my students would take this a bit more seriously", leaving little doubt as to who she meant, nor concealing her irritation.

Hermione's hand went up: "You wanted to apologize?", Trelawney asked.

"You are aware, Professor, that Pluto was discovered in 1930? Astrologers had no idea it even existed, so how could they ascribe any influence to it? This isn't making much sense".

There were suppressed giggles around the room.

This is why Trelawney hated teaching Beaux Batons students: they knew too much muggle science. She couldn't hold house point deductions over their heads, nor could she assign detentions.

"My Dear, all celestial objects have an influence".

"If that's the case, then astrologers should have noticed that their star charts and predictions were always off. They should have noticed that there was some unknown influence they were missing. This didn't lead them to discover Pluto did it?"

"My Dear, if you would make an effort to understand, you wouldn't be asking these questions", she continued in that fake, Gypsy fortune teller's voice. "You will never get very far in my class, and you are courting misfortune by being such a Nay Saying Nellie. Last night, while doing my needlework, I had a powerful urge to consult the crystal ball. Do you know what I saw?"

 _("A fraud with over sized glasses looking back at you")_

"Death", she continued, "it circles like a vulture, coming ever closer as it slowly descends over the castle. Circling… Circling… It comes!", she pointed directly at Harry, who made it a point to yawn visibly.

Some of the Beaux Batons students did gasp in horror. The Patil sisters looked genuinely concerned.

"It would have been a more impressive performance", Harry was explaining after class, "if she hadn't done it a hundred times before. Ever since I started, she's been telling everyone all about my imminent demise. It began literally with our first lesson with her on tea leaf reading. Well, here I still am, alive and well. Trelawney may come up with the occasional flash of insight, but they are few and far between. Other times, she makes predictions that're so vague that anything could be claimed as a fulfillment".

"So your Divination prof is a fraud?", Veronique asked. "Then _why_ would Dumbledore keep her!"

"Trelawney isn't a fraud", Harry explained, "she's just a not-very-good Seer. It's true she is the descendant of some famous Seers, it's just that she didn't inherit much of their abilities. He's keeping her on as a special favour", he wasn't about to elaborate as to the reason.

"What?"

"Don't know; don't care. Hogwarts students have long given up on ever getting an OWL for Divination".

"Zee 'Eadmaster isn't doing a very good job, iz 'ee?"

"No, Alesandra, no he isn't", Harry agreed.

 **0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF**

December brought on a bout of severe weather, lots of icy blasts. The rigging of the Durmstrang ship was covered in thick frost. He didn't envy the Durmstrang students – or Hogwarts students: that old castle got plenty drafty and cold – and hoped they had some good insulation, or warming charms. The owls brought a post.

 _Dear Harry,_

 _Good to see you got by the dragon. As you pointed out, the ordeal of the dragons was too open, too public, for anyone to be trying to pull anything. I'd watch out for those ordeals where you are out of sight._

 _As for Mad Eye Moody, I agree: his blatant violation of the Tournament's rules against outside help seems out of character. Have you checked out his identity with the Map? Having an agent in the guise of an auror would be dangerous. It could very well be a case of his doing what he can to keep you safe. The idea that you would be entered into this tournament would receive so little opposition from the officials involved is suspicious. Given the history, it would take a lot to turn Mr. Crouch. As for Ludo, he shouldn't've been put in that position in the first place. Keep a close eye on him._

 _Congratulations on making first place. I wouldn't let down your guard just yet. Never forget that your main objective is to get out of this alive. It isn't to win, and if your school is to win, let it be Fleur who does it._

 _As for the egg, I can't help you without actually seeing it. However, I will offer one piece of advice: don't over think it. Remember who you're dealing with, and their ignorance of and aversion to tech. Your solution won't involve tech._

 _Let's hope that nasty articles in the Prophet are the extent of your problems._

 _Sirius says to say he's rooting for you, and congratulations on doing so well._

 _Regards,_

 _Lucius_

Harry checked, and it was as expected: Mad Eye Moody was still Mad Eye Moody. Still no signs of possession or impostors.

Madam Maxime had an announcement: "Vee vill be taking breakfast at 'Ogvarts zis morning. Professor Dumbledore 'as requested our presence in zee Great 'All". As they headed towards the castle, they saw the Durmstrang students coming up from the lake.

Harry and Hermione took a seat with the Lions. Dumbledore took his place at the owl-shaped lectern:

"I'm sure you're wondering why I called this meeting. This Christmas, Hogwarts will be hosting the Triwizard Ball. This is part of the tradition of the Triwizard Tournament. This year, the Ball will be open to Fourth Year students, and up. That doesn't mean that younger students will be excluded, this means that younger students won't be allowed to invite anyone. They can, however, be invited.

"It is also traditional for the Champions to open the Ball with the first dance. Though it isn't a requirement, I would be most pleased if the partners you invite were from a school other than your own. One of the purposes of the Ball is the opportunity for socialization outside your own bubbles. Promoting international co-operation and understanding is one of the objectives of the Tournament. There is one final requirement: have fun.

"Now, our Headmistress would like a word. Professor Minerva McGonagall".

Dumbledore received polite applause.

"Professor McGonagall", he offered her his place at the lectern.

"Formal dress robes or attire will be worn for the Ball. I understand that the Ball is an occasion for us to… let down our hair, as it were. That doesn't excuse you from being on your best behaviour, and I am not trying to sound like a kill-joy..."

"Sure could've fooled us", Fred said under his breathe.

"… You can still have a good time while staying within the bounds of good behaviour", she glared in Fred's and George's direction.

"That means no slipping Canary Creams onto the _hors d'oeuvres_ tray", Ron whispered back.

"I'm impressed you know that word, Ronnikins", George said.

"Could you please not call me 'Ronniekins'?"

"You got it, Ronniekins", Fred agreed.

"… Never forget that all of you are ambassadors for your respective schools and countries. Mr. Crouch and Mr. Bagman will also be in attendance, so make sure your behaviour reflects well on the Ministry. The Heads of Houses will be chaperoning the event. Have an enjoyable Christmas evening".

"That's gonna be impossible", Fred and George agreed, "under those conditions".

"Let down her hair? I bet she hasn't done that figuratively or literally in fifty years", George said.

"Or removed that poker from her ass", Fred agreed.

"So what's this about 'Canary Cremes'", Harry asked.

"Meet us in the Common Room at the noon break, and we'll show you", Fred replied.

"So we're going to have to find dates?", Harry asked.

"That's what McGonagall said", George replied.

"Maybe I can go back to Little Whinging for Christmas".

"I highly doubt that. It's a tradition that Champions open the Ball with the first dance. You saw? McGonagall would apparate into your living room and shanghai you right back to Hogwarts", Hermione said.

"I've never… done that… ask a girl out", Harry explained.

"Harry!", Fred said, "you – of all people – have it _soooooo_ easy. You're going to a school that's chock-full of girls..."

"Got anyone in mind?", George asked.

"Yeah, I do, actually"

"No kidding?", Fred said, "hell, that's 90% of the battle right there. You go up to her, and ask. Either one of two things happen: she says 'Yes', and you're done. She says 'No', and you're none the worst off. Back to square one".

"Then go for it, no big deal", Hermione said. "After taking on a Horntail, should be easy".

Harry thought he wasn't so sure about that. A dragon would shoot fire at you, she might try swatting you from the sky, but she wouldn't reject you, nor would she embarrass you.

Draco was catching up: "Hey Harry, Hermione"

"S'up?"

"Could you come by the Common Room? Something I need to ask".

"I wonder if somewhere else might be better. I'm technically not a Snake anymore".

"Yeah, you're right, probably better elsewhere".

"How about Gryffindor Tower?", Fred offered.

At the afternoon break, Harry made his way to Gryffindor Tower, where Fred and George were waiting, the hatch open as to not betray the password.

"That's all right, don't mind me", the Fat Lady was complaining. "I'll just hang around while you dawdle with the hatch hanging open".

"Hiya Harry!", Colin Creevey called out.

"Hey, Harry!", Neville greeted. "So what brings you back to the lion's den?"

"Hello everyone", Harry called out.

Neville had his hand over his mouth as Fred offered Harry a creme from a box.

"Pretty good, actually...", Harry started… "Da fuck!"

He was covered, head to toe, with bright yellow feathers.

"Now I look like Big Bird", he said as he looked in the mirror.

Everyone who was there was laughing, even if they had no idea who Big Bird was. Harry joined in the laughter. It really was quite unexpected, and pretty funny.

"Say Cheese!", Colin called out and snapped a pic.

"Canary Cremes!", George explained. "A bargain at seven sickles a pop".

After about five minutes, all Harry's feathers dropped, leaving him looking and feeling perfectly normal, so no hang over. He stepped out of the pile of feathers…

"We're still working on that", Fred and George said as Harry picked off feathers static stuck to his uniform. "So what do you think?"

"Definitely _don't_ slip one onto the _hors_ _d'oeuvres_ trays. A funny gag, seems harmless enough, so this is what you've been working on?"

"We have _loads_ more ideas, but those are secrets for now. Mother has been bugging us to do more studying to get all the OWLs we can...", Fred began.

"… Wants us to follow Dear Brother Percy into the Ministry", George completed the thought. "Was disappointed we're not gonna make Prefect, but we really don't care. We have our own path, and it doesn't intersect the Ministry, and we're not gonna need a lot of OWLs for our plans".

"Yeah, how many can get so excited as Perce over reports on cauldrons? Or any of the other meaningless busy-work Crouch assigns him?"

"So what about these dates we'll be needing?", Harry asked.

"No big deal", Fred said, "watch this…

"Oi! Alice!", he called over to where Alice Spinnet was talking with Angelina by the fireplace.

"Yes, Fred?", she came over.

"How'd you like to go to the Ball with me?"

"That would be great!", she agreed.

"See? They don't bite", Fred said as she made her way back to the fireplace, giggling.

"How 'bout you, Angelina?", George called out, "you want to go with me?"

"I'd be honoured", Angelina agreed to the date.

"There's another problem", Harry explained, "I'd like to ask Pansy..."

"So why don't you?"

"...There's Hermione..."

"Better ask her", Ron added, "if you don't, Little Miss Question-all won't be going at all".

"SHUTUP RONNIEKINS!", George and Fred called out in chorus.

"Yeah, you and Hermione've been pretty tight from the time you were here at Hogwarts, but you've got to be honest, both with yourself and Hermione: you want to take her?"

"I've also been tight with Pansy… With Hermione, we've always been friend friends, not boyfriend/girlfriend".

"So what's the problem? If she's any kind of friend, she'll understand. Hell, she might be wanting to go with someone besides you".

"Be like datin' an encyclopedia...", Ron wouldn't leave it alone.

"SHUT..."

"I know! I know! 'Shutup Ronniekins' … I _really_ don't like it when you call me that!", Ron complained. "Doesn't change the fact that she's got as much personality as one of those books her nose is always in".

"Enough about that", Fred asked, "tell us about the dragon..."

Harry had to regale the Lions all about the Horntail and how he came up with the idea of using his Firebolt to get by a fiercely protective mother and get at her clutch.

Later, he met up with Draco in an empty classroom.

"It's about the Ball", he explained, "just my luck: being stuck as a Third Year..."

"According to McGonagall, you don't have to be in the fourth year if you're invited..."

"That's just it", he complained, "I'd like to take Ginny".

"Oh… not a prob, we'll just get fourth years to invite you and Ginny. After that, they can't make you dance what with the one that brung ya. I'll see what I can do".

"That'd be great, and I would appreciate it".

Harry didn't recall that Hogwarts seemed to have so many girls from the time he was there. These days, it was like they were everywhere, always moving in packs. Always giggling about something, but always going dead silent whenever any boy got close. When one had to pee, there always seemed to be a half-dozen who likewise had to retire to the nearest girls' room.

Hermione explained that he didn't need her permission. If he could face down a Horntail… it took him a few days to get up his courage to separate Pansy from a gaggle of Slytherin girls.

"Yes?", she asked, off to one side while the others looked on.

"Wangoballwiddme?", that didn't come out anywhere close to right, as Harry's cheeks flushed.

"Run that by me again"

"Do… you… want… to… go… to… the Ball with me?"

"I thought you'd _never_ ask! I've turned down several dates already. Yes: I'd like very much to go to the Ball with you".

"Great!"

Pansy returned to the gaggle of girls, who were all giggling now.

 **0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF**

Hermione was giving Harry a hard time during a study hall: "What do you mean, you haven't done anything with the egg? Harry! You need that clue!"

"I still have until February, another couple of months..."

"Time that'll fly by! It's not that long! What will you do when you're called to the second ordeal, and you know _nothing_!"

"I'll be no worse off than the other three if they haven't solved it either".

"You can't count on that! Cedric's no dummy, and Ron said that only because he's jealous again, and Hufflepuff beat Gryffindor. Then you have Viktor, and he's going to get heaps of help from Karkarov. Why don't you and Fleur put your heads together and solve the mystery?"

"OK, I'll try it again, but, damn, that screeching".

"Yes, I know it's unpleasant, but wasn't that the point? The clue's in there".

"I don't see how. I mean, it's just so much meaningless noise".

"Whatever the clue turns out to be, you won't find it with the egg sitting in your trunk".

 **0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF**

"I am so signing up for that", Harry said as he spotted a sign displayed in the main lobby at Beaux Batons.

BALLROOM DANCE LESSONS

THIS SATURDAY, HOGWARTS GREAT HALL

Once the dating problem was solved, the next was that all the Champions and their dates would all share the first dance. This was something he'd never done before, and the thought of making a fool of himself in front of the schools, the judges and other Ministry officials likely to be there was keeping him up nights.

"I vill be joining you", Fleur agreed.

 _Care of Magical Creatures_

Beuax Batons was back on rotation for another lecture about unicorns.

"Gather 'roun", Hagrid announced.

There was a gold colored foal in the paddock this morning.

"Doan worry, unicorn foals're partial to boys. Dey doan begin ter lose the gold colour until dere boud two years old, when dey start growing dare horns. The horn will grow in by the time dare four, or so.

"When dey fully mature at seven, den dey will acquire dare white coats, an' den dey develop dare aversion to men an' boys. Rye now, he woan mine if'n boys pet him. Dass why I brung him.

"Harry, ye want ter go furss?"

Harry climbed between rails.

"Das rye, nice an' easy. Doan spook him".

The unicorn foal, forehead quite hornless, and looking little different from any foal, came up to Harry out of curiousity. The only way to tell this was a unicorn was by the golden hooves. The foal lowered his head to allow Harry to scratch behind his ears. He gave a quiet snort of pleasure.

"Well, done, Harry", Hagrid congratulated. "Now, if'n yall comes up, one-by-one..."

"Dat concludes our module on unicorns", Hagrid announced at the conclusion of the class. "Necks up Ah'll be havin' sumpting fun fer ever-one. Doan worry boud thuh unicorn, he be goin' back to his herd, none the worse. Doan forget: dere will be an exam necks time we meet".

 **0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF**

"Hey, Luna, got a minute?", Harry called out.

"I thought you were going with Pansy?"

"I am, but I was wondering who you were going with".

"No one, so far. I'd like to go with Horace Sedgewick".

"Really? I thought a Ravenclaw would be your _last_ choice?"

"Horace was the only one who treated me decent", Luna explained. "He really didn't know about how the girls were bullying me".

Horace Sedgewick was Ravenclaw's boys' prefect.

"What's this all about?", Luna asked.

"It's Draco, he'd like to go with Ginny".

"They're too young".

"I know, but here's the deal: Horace asks Ginny, and you ask Draco. That's how you register, nice and legal. Then when you get to the ball, you exchange partners. How about it?"

"Very Slytherin of you. I like it".

"So you'll do it?"

"For you and Draco and everything you did for me, it's the least I can do".

"Great! 'Preciate it".

"See you and Pansy at the Ball"

That took care of Draco's problem, but he wasn't having any luck with that egg. He decided it was best, outside by the forest, under the Muffliato Charm. It didn't completely deaden the noise, but reduced it to the point where it wasn't disturbing everyone around it.

Once he got used to the irritation, he could still hear nothing in the background, nothing that sounded the least like a clue.

 **0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF**

Harry lined up along one side of the Great Hall with the boys, Pansy and the girls along the opposite wall. In the center of the room, McGonagall had an old, wind-up gramophone with a huge wooden horn. Her assistant for the dance lessons was Professor Snape.

"The essence of the waltz is not all that difficult", McGonagall was explaining. It's step forward, step sideways, step back, step sideways back to your starting position".

She demonstrated the move.

"If you would, Professor Snape?"

Snape placed his left hand around McGonagall's waist, right hands together.

"Step, step, step, step", McGonagall and Snape did the steps. "Then release", as Snape dropped his left hand, "then twirl, and hands back together, in time to complete the steps. There's really nothing more to it than that".

"If you'd come forward", McGonagall motioned for the boys and girls to the center of the room.

"Hands on waist, hands up, and step… step… step… step… release and twirl… step… step… step.

"Try to loosen up a bit there, Mr Stebbins… It's step, step, step, not stomp, stomp, stomp, Mr. Malfoy..."

"Let's all try it again, and this time, try to make your steps more fluid..."

They practiced the moves for nearly an hour: "Very good, now let's try it with music. If you would watch us and observe", McGonagall said.

"May I have this dance?", Snape said.

"I'd be honoured, Professor Snape".

A waltz played, scratchy and not a very good playback. McGonagall and Snape waltzed across the floor.

"Everyone", McGonagall invited.

"Very good, Mr. Potter… Time your steps with the tempo, Mr MacMillen… Release and twirl..."

"Thank you for coming", McGonagall concluded her dance lessons. "You've done quite well, and I'm confident these lessons will serve you well at the Ball.

"Thank you for your assistance, Professor Snape"

"You're quite welcome, Professor McGonagall"

There were lots of rumours flying about the Ball. One had it that Dumbledore had ordered 800 barrels of mulled wine from Madam Rosemerta. That one seemed a bit over the top, as they figured that was an entire year's supply at the Three Broomsticks. Another was that Dumbledore had booked The Furries. That, too, was highly doubted as this was a power metal band. Those who listened to the Wizarding Wireless Network had heard of them, but figured Dumbledore was way too old, way too old fashioned, to even know who The Furries were.

 **0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF**

Christmas morning, and Harry saw a pile of presents at the foot of his bed. They must've been delivered during the night. He tore off the wrapping paper. From Hagrid he received a box of sweets: Chocolate Frogs, Sugar Quills, Fizzing Whizbees, and his favourite: Bertie Bott's Everyflavour Beans.

Molly and Arthur sent along a Weasley sweater; This one dark green with a red dragon knitted into the front, a tribute to his first Triwizard ordeal. They also sent along mince pies.

Hermione gave him a book: _English and Irish Quidditch Teams._

Uncle Vernon gave him a diver's watch, waterproof, and most importantly, a purely mechanical, wind-up watch that would work around magical fields.

Aunt Petunia gave him a gift card, good for the shops in Diagon Alley.

They spent the morning showing off what they got for Christmas. That afternoon, back to the Great Hall for the mid-day meal. A hundred roast turkeys and Christmas puddings. Harry knew he'd need to go light on turkey and dressing to make room for the feast that was part of the opening ceremonies.

The afternoon, being clear, but cold, was an invitation to be outdoors. The newly fallen snow pristine, except for the paths that led to the Beaux Batons airliner and the Durmstrang ship. Harry joined his classmates for coasting on makeshift toboggans made from discarded boxes.

Durmstrang and Hogwarts paired off for a snowball war.

By 5:00, Hermione and the other girls returned to the airliner to get ready. By 7:00, the last of the daylight fast disappearing, Harry went to get himself ready. Harry, wearing a tux with white bow tie (not a clip on) and patent leather pumps waited in the entrance hall. The doors to the Great Hall would open at 8:00. Students milled around, a buzz of conversation. Students from different schools edged around the crowd, seeking their partners. Harry kept an eye on the door leading to the dungeons.

Ginny was wearing something from her muggle collection: a dress with a Molly unapproved hemline was also looking towards the dungeons as she stood beside Horace. The Slytherins, Draco in the lead, came up from their dorms under the lake. Draco was wearing black, satin robes with a high collar. He looked like a vicar. Pansy was wearing a floaty, frilly, light pink gown. She had a pearl necklace, and gold bracelets. She smiled, waved enthusiastically at Harry, and joined up. Draco stood by Luna, whose wardrobe for this evening was, well, a bit unique.

Ron, looking a bit self-conscious, waved to Millicent, who was in shocking pink robes. When he owled the Burrow, asking for dress robes, he was sent a dark green dress with frilly lace. At first, he thought his mother had mixed up the addresses, and that the package was for his sister.

"No, Silly, those are _your_ robes", Ginny informed him.

"You... _can't_ be serious, this thing looks so… _gay_!"

"Not as 'gay' (finger quotes) as Harry's school uniform", Ginny reminded, as she nodded her head towards the Gryffindor table.

"Harry wears girly clothes because they _make_ him"

"Maybe just a bit out of style", one of Ginny's Ravenclaw classmates explained.

"Yeah, by about a hundred years", another said.

He had magicked off the lace, but still some traces of white and loose threads remained. It still looked too much like a dress to suit him.

"Where's Hermione?", he asked.

The oak main doors opened, and Professor Karkarov led the Durmstrang delegation. Over their heads, they could see that an expansive garden had been magicked on the front lawn. Rose bushes, alight with fairy lights stood out. There was a large statue of Father Christmas, also with fae on, around, and flying over it.

The Durmstrang students were all wearing red robes with fur trimming, their fur hats, and marching in military precise lock step.

Viktor Krum stood by Professor Karkarov, and accompanying him, a stunning, head-turning girl that took several seconds for him to recognize as Hermione. She had done something with her hair, which was no longer so fly-away bushy. Now it was sleek and shiny, twisted and tied in an elegant knot at the back of her head. She was wearing a periwinkle blue outfit that was light and floaty, and so thin that, should she be caught in front of a strong light, would leave little to the imagination. She also carried herself differently, but that may have been since, for once, she didn't have a pack stuffed with books slung over a shoulder.

"Wow", Pansy whispered.

"Wow is right", Harry agreed.

Not everyone felt the same: Krum's contingent of fangurls looked on, green with envy.

McGonagall stepped from the Great Hall:

"May I have your attention!', she called out. She was wearing red tartan and had a wreath of thistle around the edge of the brim of her stereotypical witch's hat.

When the buzz quieted, she continued:

"Champions and their partners, would you come up front?"

Harry and Pansy joined the other three Champions: Fleur and her date, Roger Davies, the Team Ravenclaw Captain, Cedric and Cho Chang, the Ravenclaw Seeker, and Viktor and Hermione. McGonagall motioned them to stand aside.

"I will be leading a procession of the Champions once all the students are seated. If you would, in an orderly manner", as the doors opened.

The remaining guests filed in. The house tables had been removed, replaced by about a hundred tables, each with a candle lantern in the center, that could accommodate a dozen. The walls were silvery with fake frost; garlands of ivy and missile toe hung over head, below the enchanted ceiling that showed a clear night.

McGonagall led the Champions, there was polite applause as they headed up the center aisle towards what was normally the staff table. This time, the judges gathered here: Professors Dunbledore and Karkarov, Madam Maxime, Ludo Bagman, and… Percy Weasley was occupying the seat that should have been Barty Crouch's. The staff and faculty had their own table against the left wall.

Percy motioned Harry over, indicating the seat next to him.

"My first promotion!", Percy announced as if he'd just been made Minister of Magic, "I'm Mr. Crouch's personal assistant, and I'll be filling in for him tonight", he explained.

"Where's Mr. Crouch?", Harry asked.

"He isn't well, not well at all. First, there was that fiasco at the World Cup. Then the preparations for the Triwizard Tournament: he's been at the Ministry constantly, sometimes for 14 or more hours a day. There was that embarrassing incident with that disobedient house elf, Blinky or whatever. The mind is as sharp as ever, but sometimes the body isn't so willing. Mr. Crouch is getting up there in years, but he won't accept that he can't go on working like a young man. He's having a well deserved, quiet, peaceful Christmas to regroup. He earned it".

"Hope he's feeling better soon", Harry said.

"Thanks, I'll tell him you said so".

Harry looked around, at the faculty table, Hagrid wore his hairy brown suit. He'd been trying to get his beard and hair in order again. That must've been painful. He gave a subtle wave, and Harry looked around. Madam Maxime, who was wearing colorful robes instead of her usual black, an opal ring for every finger, waved back, her opals catching the candle light.

The golden plates were there, but no feast appeared. There was, however, a menu card by each plate. He was wondering about this, would there be a waiter to take their orders? Dumbledore said to his plate: "Pork chops".

The pork chops appeared instantly. Following Dumbledore's lead, everyone placed their orders.

Fleur was complaining to Roger:

"It ees too 'eavy, all zis 'Ogwarts food. Zis is nothing", she said as she swept her hand over the table. "For Chrizzmuz at Beaux Batons vee 'ave ice sculptures zat do not melt, of course, like yuge carvings from diamond. Zere is a choir of vood nymphs 'oo serenade us, and zee food ees simply superb. Our 'alls don't 'ave zees ugly suits of armour, and eef a poltergeist dared entair Beaux Batons, it vould be expelled just like zat", as she snapped her fingers.

Roger looked simply spell bound, and likely hadn't heard a word, as he didn't protest her critique of Hogwarts. He kept missing his mouth with his fork.

"Just like that", he said as he snapped his fingers, "Yeah!"

Harry figured Fleur's complaining was her veela coming out.

Viktor was telling Hermione about Durmstrang:

"Ve have a castle, though not as large, vee only have four floors, and the fires are lit for magical purposes only. Vee do have larger grounds, with lakes and mountains. Vee are so far north, zere isn't much daylight, but during the summer we're always out, hiking, flying over the lakes and mountains..."

"Don't be giving away all our secrets to your charming friend, Viktor – she might figure out where to find us", Karkarov warned.

"It sounds like you're trying to keep visitors away, Igor", Dumbledore said.

"Vee have a duty to guard the halls of academia entrusted to us, do vee not? Are vee not proud to know our schools' secrets? Are vee not right to keep them?"

"Oh, I wouldn't presume to say I know all of Hogwarts' secrets", Dumbledore explained.

Hermione was trying to teach Viktor how to pronounce her name. It kept coming out: "Hermi-one"

"No, Viktor, it's Her-my-own-nee".

"Hermi-own-ninny"

"Close enough", she said.

After the plates were cleared away, Dumbledore bade everyone stand. With a wave of his wand, he moved all the tables clear of the center of the floor. With another wave of his wand, a bandstand appeared on the right, next to the faculty table. A quartet of musicians arrived from the side entrance.

"And now, the Dance of Champions", Dumbledore announced.

"That's us", Pansy pulled Harry to his feet, He, along with the rest of the Champions took to the dance floor. A waltz began to play.

"Step… step… step… step", Harry reminded himself. He quickly felt quite comfortable with Pansy, as if he was anticipating her every move. He likened it to being in the zone on the Quidditch pitch. When the dance ended, there were more applause. Harry was pleased he didn't do something stupid, like step on Pansy's feet.

Next was the faculty dance. Dumbledore with McGonagall, Snape with Pomona Sprout, Flitwick with Septima Vector, Hagird with Madam Maxime. The latter couple maneuvering like container ships in a harbor, the rest giving them a wide berth.

Dumbledore stood alone in the center of the dance floor. As he'd done at Samhein, he wandlessly lowered the torches, extinguished the candles.

"Ladies and gentlemen: the moment you've all been waiting for", as he took out his wand, conjuring a stage with amps, and instruments. "Would you give a warm Hogwarts welcome to...", dramatic pause, "… The Furries!"

There was a prerecorded fanfare as an anthro fox entered from stage right. He was midnight black, with a light gray face beginning below the eyes, and running down his front, between his legs. He had two tails, each tipped in light gray. Following were a brown and white dog wearing a collar with a dog bone name tag, a lynx, a chipmunk, a raccoon. Harry figured they were animagi or metamorphs as they obviously weren't wearing costumes.

"Greetings, ladies and gentlemen of Hogwarts!", the anthro fox began his announcement.

This was greeted with applause and cheering. He waited until the commotion was dying down before raising his hands.

"I'd like to take this opportunity to introduce you to my band. Jaru on lead guitar…."

The anthro dog bowed.

"… BobZeCat on lead".

The lynx waved.

"… Rrrrrrr-icardo on bass"

The raccoon raised both hands over his head.

"… Aaaaaaand Shatterstripes on drums"

The chipmunk flourished his drum sticks.

"… And I am KitsuNoir, and we are THE FURRIES!"

Ricardo began by laying down a bass line, the others fell in and KitsuNoir began the opening song:

"I'm gonna make you scream and shout. Gonna make your hair stand on end..."

No more elegant waltzes, as young bodies convulsed on the dance floor while older bodies lined up against the wall. None seemingly able to comprehend what The Furries were all about, other than playing very loud. A searing guitar solo as Jaru fingered the neck much farther down than what the older folk considered normal. They ripped right into their next number without a break.

However KitsuNoir stopped the third after the intro:

"I… can't… hear… youuuuu...", he taunted. He placed his hands behind his ears and waited.

"Surprised they can hear at all", Mad Eye said to Dumbledore.

"YOU AIN'T MAKIN' ENOUGH F'KIN NOISE!"

Harry could see McGonagall cringe from across the dance floor.

KitsuNoir began to lead a chant, as he squatted, stood up while raising his hands over his head. The spots above the stage flashed every time he stood. The crowd fell in with the chanting: "Yeah! Yeah! Yeah! ..." The song continued.

There was an intermission that saw Harry and Pansy, Fred and Alice, George and Angelina, Ron and Millicent at the same table. They ordered bottles of butterbeer.

"So he really did book The Furries?", Pansy was saying, "I didn't think he was that cool".

"I don't know about that", Harry objected. "I will hand it to him: he does know what his students want".

Hermione and Viktor joined them.

"Hot isn't it?", Hermione said, as her face was slightly pink from dancing.

"I vill be back wiff drinks", Viktor said.

"So has he asked you to call him 'Vicky' yet?", Ron asked, unpleasantly.

"No, of course he hasn't. What's up with you anyway?", she asked.

"If you can't figure it out for yourself, I can't explain it", he said with a haughty tone.

"I don't know what you're talking about".

"He's from Durmstrang! Death Eater U! You're fraternizing with the enemy!"

"Enemy, Ron? The whole point of the Tournament is getting to know wizards from other nations..."

"The point of the Tournament is winning! Karakrov's giving him help; he knows who you hang with, and he's probably using you to get ideas about those eggs, maybe get close to the other Champions, take them out with jinxes".

"For your information, Viktor never asked me anything about the eggs. Besides, who was it who was so excited to see him? Who wanted an autograph? Who has a miniature Viktor Krum up in his dorm?"

"Mind if I borrow Milli for the next dance?", a Beaux Batons student asked Ron.

"No..."

"Romantic, real romantic, Ron. Let's go", Millicent went with him.

"Look at yourself! You've been ignoring Millicent all evening haven't you? Isn't that inconsiderate, especially if she thought enough of you to invite you!"

"C'mon", Harry said quietly to Pansy. They quietly took their leave.

They went out into the garden with its twisting lanes flanked by rose bushes lit up with fairy lights. There was a prominent statue of Father Christmas, with more fae on and around it. There was also a warming charm that turned the garden into a mild spring evening, shutting out the dead of a Highland winter.

"I don't know why you're so concerned, Igor...", Snape drawled.

"Severus, you can't pretend it's not happening. It's been getting clearer and clearer over the last few months. I am becoming increasingly concerned, I can't deny it". Karkarov sounded very concerned, if not terrified, of something.

"Then do a runner, Igor. I'll make your excuses, but as for myself, I have _no_ intentions of leaving Hogwarts!"

Karkarov and Snape were on a first name basis? Harry and Pansy knew they were thinking the same thing.

Snape appeared around a bend, blasting curses into the rose bushes. There were squeals and running figures. He fired off another curse, and a girl stumbled out.

"Thirty points from Ravenclaw, Miss Fawcett".

A boy followed.

"Thirty points from Hufflepuff, Mr. Stebbins".

"And just what do you think you're doing, Pot-ter?"

"Just going for a walk. There's no rule against that, is there?"

"Then walk", Snape snapped at him.

Whatever Karkarov and Snape were discussing, it had put him in a bad mood which he was taking out on the students who came here for privacy for some snogging. That was Harry's and Pansy's intention. They knew they'd need to put some distance between themselves and Snape.

Harry and Pansy weren't the only ones with the same idea, nor were they alone in observing Snape's over enthusiastic chaperoning. Hermione picked up a small stone from the rose bush beds.

"Vot izzat for?", Viktor asked.

"You'll see. C'mon, this way".

Hermione led Viktor across the lawn, glad to see the undisturbed snow around the base of the willow. As they approached, the branches began to sway as though in a strong wind, though there wasn't anything but the lightest breeze.

"A whomping willow", she explained. Just outside the reach of the branches, she took out her wand and the stone.

"Wingardium leviosa!", she sent the stone flying to strike the special knot hole that acted like an "off" switch, stilling the flaying branches.

"Vere are vee goink?", he asked.

"You'll see", as she slipped into the tunnel hidden among the roots.

"The Shrieking Shack", she announced as they emerged from the trap door.

As far as Viktor could tell, it was just another cold, dusty, dirty, abandoned and boarded up old house. "Vhy here?", he looked around at the peeling, yellowed wall paper.

"This way", she led him up the stairs.

There was a bedroom, clean, warm, well lighted, and with a bed with satin sheets. Hermione was out of her gown within seconds. Completely naked, she threw her arms around Viktor's neck.

"Vat are you doink, Hermi-own-ninny?"

"Just my part (kiss) to further (kiss) international magical (kiss) co-operation (kiss)".

"Are you sure about ziss, Hermi-own-ninny?"

"Very"

He swept her up, carried her to the bed. She lay there, fingering her labs while Viktor undressed.

She wasn't the only one who noticed. Ron followed from a discreet distance. He stuck his head up after opening the trap door. Hermione had forgotten to magically seal it. He didn't go any further. He didn't have to. The sounds coming from the upstairs bedroom told him everything he needed to know, what he didn't want to know.

Pansy and Harry went deeper into the garden, there was a tall fountain sending jets of water skywards. Two very large people sat at a bench, just looking out over the moonlight playing on the water. Harry and Pansy ducked behind the statue of a reindeer.

"From thuh very furss time Ah seen ye, Ah knew...", they overheard Hagrid.

This wasn't the kind of conversation one stuck around to hear, but they both spotted Fleur and Roger in the rose bushes beside the fountain. He didn't feel so guilty, knowing that Hagrid was going to be overheard no matter what. He did notice a beetle crawling along the back of the reindeer statue. He wondered about that, why the garden would come complete with bugs. He stopped wondering at Madam Maxime's words.

"Vhat ees eet zat you zink you know?", she asked.

"Ah juss knowed, ye were juss like me, frum thuh moment I metcha… Was it your mother or your father?"

"I… I… do not know vhat you mean, 'Agreed".

"My Mum", Hagrid continued. "One of thuh lass ones in Britain. She done leff when Ah wuzz boud t'ree. Not thuh maternal sort, she wassan, but thass not their nature, issit? Doan know what happened ter her. Broke Dad's heart, it did…

"He was a wee bloke, even by human standards. By thuh time I was six, Ah could liff him up an' put him on the top o' thuh cupboard when he annoyed me. Made him laugh..."

Harry had never known Hagrid to speak of his childhood. Madam Maxime was staring off at the water, showing no reaction.

"… Course, he died, shertly after I leff fer Hogwarts. Ah been on my own ever since. Dumblederr took me in, showed me kindness, hepped me out a lot. Great man, Dumblederr..."

Hagrid took out an oversize handkerchief and blew his nose like a fog horn.

"Nuff boud me… How boud ye? Ye get it on your mother's side or your father's?"

"Eet is getting chilly", Maxime said. Her voice far colder than the weather. "I zink I go in now".

"Wait!", Hagrid called out. "Doan go juss yet. Ah ain never met anudder one beferr"

"Anozzer vun vhat, precisely?"

"Why anudder half-gian', of curss",

"Monsieur 'Agreed! I 'ave _never_ been so eensulted in all my life! 'Ow dare you! 'Alf-giant, Moi? I 'ave… I 'ave… big bones, zass all!"

As she stormed off, she left a wake of multi-coloured fae in her wake as she pushed aside rose bushes. Hagrid just sat there for a minute or two before making his way, not towards the castle, but the Game Keeper's cabin.

"I don't know who she thinks she's kidding", Harry said, "the only thing with bones that big is a dinosaur".

With Hagrid and Maxime gone, and Roger and Fleur off somewhere else…

"Kiss me", Pansy planted her lips firmly on Harry's.

Harry and Pansy made it back just in time for The Furries' closing song:

"This song was inspired by Samuel Taylor Coleridge", KitsuNoir announced a ten minute long retelling of _The Rime of the Ancient Mariner._

After, they stood, arms interlinked and bowed before the audience. Shatterstripes threw his drum sticks into the audience, setting off scrambles for the prize.

"Thank you all, and have a pleasant rest of the Holidays, and a Happy New Year!", KitsuNoir called out.

There was the post-Ball wind down before everyone began trickling back to their respective dorms.

Ron crept down the stairs after "Lights Out" to the Common Room. He placed a miniature Viktor Krum on the fire where it writhed in agony before melting. He looked on in glee, only wishing he could do the same to the real thing.


	32. Between the Tasks, Pt II

**Between the Tasks, Pt II**

Boxing Day was sleep-in day, especially after the Ball last night. Harry met up with Hermione in the main lobby.

"Your hair...", he noticed Hermione's hair was back to its normal bushiness.

"I used Sleekeaze Hair Potion", she explained, "it's not something I want to bother with every day, and I wonder about long term effects".

"That's the thing", Harry said, "I wonder how many women and girls would like to use it? Too bad they can't sell it to the public at large".

"I'm sure a lot. Well, there's the Secrecy Statute, and the muggle government would want to know what's in it, how it's made, and then all that testing".

"It's really too bad the magical community doesn't make more of an effort to benefit everyone".

"Don't let Mr. Malfoy hear you say that. Anyway, can you believe it? Dumbledore _actually_ booked The Furries for the Ball?"

"Surprised me too, I guess the old guy isn't as out of touch with his students as we tend to think. Though, McGonagall didn't look too pleased".

"How'd it go with Pansy?"

"Went just fine".

"You go out to the garden?"

"Yep, even though Snape was being a real pain in the ass… That reminds me, something Karkarov said set him off… I'm glad I finally got up enough nerve to ask her… You and Viktor visit the garden?"

"No, I'm afraid we didn't".

"You were sure gone a long time".

"He's a really great guy, despite what they say about Durmstrang, said he'd like to come to England, and that he liked what he's seen of Hogwarts".

"Good to hear you had a good time too. The Bulgarians won't like that, losing their national treasure of a Quiddich player.

"Ummmm… we weren't the only ones in the garden", Harry said. "Madam Maxime and Hagrid were there, too, and, well, we heard something we didn't know before… I really don't like to gossip..."

"Then don't. Just be happy Hagrid's found someone. If it's important, he'll tell in his own good time".

"You're right again, as usual..."

"I know, it's a curse".

In the Great Hall, Ron didn't say a word to either Harry or Hermione. They didn't press him as it looked like his date with Millicent was a disaster. Fred and George, on the other hand, weren't the least bit reticent about describing their dates, their evenings. They also narrowly dodged Snape on his garden patrol.

"See?", Harry said, "There are more ways of having fun besides sneaking Canary Cremes onto the snack trays".

"Maybe, but you got to admit...", Fred began.

"...It'd be a helluva prank", George finished that thought.

It was nice, having a week off without classes or homework. However, February looked a lot closer, being on the far side of Christmas. Still no luck with the egg. Harry tried opening it upside down, asking it a question, both before opening it, and shouting questions over the cacophony after opening it. No luck: nothing he did differently made a difference.

It was no different for Fleur, and she did take hers to the computer lab. The FFT showed nothing but random seeming noise. Harry had warned her: the British Ministry wouldn't do anything that would require tech. There had to be some other way, some charm, but even translation charms didn't help any. He wondered how Cedric and Viktor were doing? If they didn't crack it either, then no one would know, and everyone would be on equal terms. More and more, this was looking like their only hope. Harry stuffed the egg back in his trunk. No sense worrying about it.

He used the time to get off an owl to Lucius, let him know what he overheard, and to owl his "Thank you's" for the presents.

Dumbledore bent the rules a bit as he'd announced a Hogsmeade outing and opened it to all students, not just Fourth Years and up. Except for the video games at Beaux Batons' computer lab, there really wasn't a lot to do. Their first stop was the Three Broomsticks.

"Mind if we join you?", Harry and Hermione asked Hagrid, who was sitting at a table, alone, with his oversized tankard of butterbeer.

"Hepp yeseffs", he said.

"I thought she unnerstand", he said. "Big bones… Ah give her big bones..."

Harry made a subtle motion to Hermione to say nothing.

"Who?", Harry asked.

"Olympe".

"I saw you at the faculty dance, looked like you were having a good time".

"Aye"

"Don't give up", Hermione encouraged.

"There's an old muggle saying: 'It ain't over till it's over'. You remember James and Lily?", Harry reminded. "It wasn't smooth sailing the whole way for them, was it?"

"Ye rye boud dat", Hagrid conceded.

"I dunnit", he said, changing the subject.

"Done what?"

"Gave Miss Skeeter her innerview. Rye nice lady, she was. Talked boud critters thuh whole time. Says thuh article be comin out soon".

"I hope that's all she writes about", Harry said. "I don't trust her".

"We'll see", Hermione said.

Harry met up with Pansy at Madam Puddifoot's Tea Room. From the decor, it was obvious this tea room was meant for dates: naked, baby Cupids on the walls who shot arrows. Pink hearts that floated across the ceiling.

"Don't misinterpret", Pansy began, "I don't regret going to the Ball with you..."

"Did something happen?", Harry asked, concerned.

"It's some of the others… When Father was still alive, they accepted me because he was one of the Dark Lord's followers. But now, they didn't approve of my dating choices. Especially that Teddie Nott. I turned him down, you see, and he and his cronies have been doing their best to turn everyone against me..."

"I'm sorry to hear that", Harry said. "I didn't think of that..."

"Don't. I don't have any regrets".

"Welcome to the Slytherin Outcasts. Draco, Luna, Millicent..."

"They've always been nice, and I avoided giving them any grief, even if it would've been hard to explain if Father ever found out".

"And Snape?"

"He's been doing his best to keep a lid on their bad behaviour".

Harry doing his best Snape impersonation: "Even though you're Pot-ter's girl friend?"

"He never mentioned that. Really, I don't know what it is with you two".

"He's had it in for me since Day One. Asking if I knew the answer to a question way beyond a Firstie's understanding, that message he scrawled on the black board: 'Dunderheads', he called us. I dread imagining how he'd've been if that Hat dropped me in Gryffindor".

"Some people just can't seem to help rubbing you the wrong way, I guess".

Snape wasn't the only one: he immediately thought of Ron, especially with the way he's been behaving since the Ball.

"Anyway", Pansy continued, "what are your plans?"

"Go back to Beaux Batons… Maybe you could ask your Mum to transfer you? … Try to get through the next task intact? Then, who knows?"

"How are you coming along?"

"I haven't a clue, and neither does Fleur. I don't think anyone's been able to solve it".

 **0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF**

Mid-January and five weeks to go until the second ordeal, and Harry was no closer to solving the egg. Fleur and Harry had been called to Madam Maxime's office.

"'Arry, Fleur, I 'ave been geeting reports zat your grades are slee-ping".

"Yes, Ma'am, they agreed. "I shall try to do better", Fleur apologized.

"It's not fair...", Harry started.

"Vhot eesn't fair?", Madam asked.

"They give us this uncrackable clue, and expect us to do school work too? There aren't enough hours in a day!"

"I understand, but, 'Arry, keep your priorities in line. I understand you vant to vin vun for zee school, but zat ees only a momentary thing. Your future ees most important. Eef you don't solve it, zat ees not important, only a moment out of your life. Zee years ahead ees vhot counts. Understand, 'Arry?"

"Yes, Ma'am, I'll do better".

Harry knew Madam Maxime was right, of course. He wouldn't have cared but for the fact that he didn't enter the Triwizard Tournament willingly, that he felt as though his life was on the line.

"What's up?", Hermione asked Harry at the mid-day meal at Hogwarts.

"Maxime called me into the office to complain about falling grades".

"So the Boy Who Lived is flunking out?", Ron said with a hint of glee.

"No, Ron, I am not flunking out", Harry protested. "Someone piss in your corn flakes this morning?"

"She knows what she did", Ron complained as he glared at Hermione.

"What's that supposed to mean?", Hermione asked.

"You're supposed to be such a genius, why don't you figure it out?"

"So what are you going to do about it?", Hermione asked Harry. She figured ignoring Ron was the best thing to do.

"I'm gonna put that damn egg in my trunk, forget about it, and get my grades in order..."

"What about the Task?"

"T'hellwiddit! I'll show up, lose the damn thing, maybe get disqualified from the rest of the Tournament. I did my part: I showed up so I get to keep the magic. I should have decided on that a long time ago. Fukit! Fuck them all and their Tournament!"

For the next several days, that's what Harry did: spent his free time catching up on his neglected studies. He'd leave it up to Fleur to win one for Beaux Batons. The problem was she wasn't having any better luck with her egg than Harry had with his. He explained why he wasn't trying to solve the puzzle:

"If we're to win, then it's only right that you score the win. You signed up for this: I didn't. I'm not even supposed to be in this Tournament in the first place".

Harry sat up in bed after being jolted awake. He remembered something, one of those _Star Trek_ movies he'd watched with Dudley last summer. This was the one where Kirk, Spock, and McCoy returned to Earth in the Klingon Bird of Prey they'd hijacked in the previous movie after they blew up the Enterprise and a whole bunch of Klingons. As they were approaching Earth, they intercepted an urgent message advising all Federation Starships to stay away. Earth was under attack from a very large, very powerful, alien probe that was sending out an indecipherable signal that only made sense when heard underwater… What if?

The Beaux Batons airliner was equipped with showers only, so that was no good. Even though he'd seen Viktor Krum come onto the deck of the Durmstrang ship wearing swim trunks only, stand on the railing and dive into Black Lake, the only other one he knew who'd consider going for a swim in the middle of January was Lucius. There was also the possibility that Krum, or some other son of Durmstrang, would see him taking his egg into the lake.

That left the prefects' bathroom. He hoped they hadn't changed the password since the last time he visited it. As for when, he decided that now was as good a time as any, it was a bit past 2:30 in the morning. Until he checked out his hunch, there would be no sleep anyway. Harry pulled on his uniform, gathered his egg and Invisibility Cloak. He brought along the Marauders Map since he'd need to look out for staff patrols, and the floor plan. The prefects' bathroom was on the fifth floor, four doors down from a statue of Boris the Bewildered. Slipping into Hogwarts wasn't a problem, given all the secret passages the Marauders Map revealed. So far, no one was out and about, not even Filch's nosy cat: Mrs Norris. Now, if only the password worked: "Pine fresh", he said, and the door unlocked.

Inside, was a rose water pool shrouded by fine mist. Stepping in the moist silence, with a warm breeze he was gently kissed. On the opposite wall hung a large painting of a fairy tale mermaid, who was thankfully "asleep". He pulled off his uniform, and jumped in. The water came up to his neck. Next, he dropped the heavy egg to the bottom, took several deep breathes, and ducked under water. As soon as the egg opened, he heard that he'd guessed right. The noise was now a comprehensible message, though not sounding like any normal voice.

 _Come seek us where our voices sound  
_ _For we can not sing above the ground  
_ _And while you're searching ponder this:  
_ _We've taken what you'll sorely miss  
_ _An hour long you'll have to look  
_ _And to recover what we took  
_ _Past an hour, the prospect's black  
_ _It's over. It's done: it's gone and won't be back_

He took three more dives to fully memorize this song or poem. It was, at best, a partial answer to the question of the Second Task. He'd worry about that later. The bathroom had a convenient drying charm. Harry got dressed and headed back under the Cloak. He consulted the Map before proceeding. Almost all the named dots were in the dorms. Peeves was out, of course, but he was up on the next floor, in the trophy room, no doubt making more work for Filch or any students he had for detention. He also noticed something else: two dots inside Professor Snape's office, neither belonging to Snape, but rather to Fred and George. They said Canary Cremes wasn't their only idea, no doubt they were nicking ingredients from Snape's private stocks.

He noticed something else, a staircase opposite the direction he came that led to a shortcut directly to the second floor. He headed off in that direction, even though it would pass close to Snape's office, but if the Twins discovered him, no big deal. He tried being as quiet as possible, but faces in portraits turned in his direction at the squeak of a floorboard or the rustle of his uniform. That was a big problem: the walls of Hogwarts literally had eyes and ears. The portraits weren't actually alive, but rather like Turing Tests. They acted as much like their subjects as possible. They also reported directly to the Headmaster. It was another reason why he preferred his new school: privacy actually existed there, no sneaky, tattle-tale portraits. On the next floor, he went to a staircase hidden behind a tapestry. This one narrower, and little used.

He had the egg tucked under an arm. Half way down, his foot sank into a trick step. He pitched forward, nearly breaking an ankle. The Cloak slipped, and grabbing it meant losing the Map, which landed six steps farther down. The egg sounded like a rifle shot with each step where it bounced. The noise was sure to attract someone's attention, even if just Peeves, but that was bad enough as he'd go telling everyone about it. No pleading with him to keep quiet. The egg dropped to the landing, rolled through the tapestry, where it popped open with that earsplitting noise that sounded even louder in the once quiet halls of the castle. Harry, stuck to his knee, tried reaching out with his wand to close the Map, but couldn't reach it. The more he struggled, the deeper into the trick step he sank. So much for his plans for subtlety in clue seeking.

" _PEEVES!"_ , of course Filch would be the first to notice. "What's all this racket?! Wake the whole castle will you?! … "What's this?"

There was a metal-on-metal click and the egg silenced as Filch closed it. Harry knew it was only seconds until Filch threw back the tapestry, intending to catch Peeves, but there would be no Peeves. He was sure to come up the stairs, see the Map, and/or run smack into Harry.

"My Sweet", Harry heard him say, so his nosy alter ego must be with him, "this is a Triwizard clue!", he called out. "It belongs to one of the contestants…

"PEEVES, you've been stealing!", he said with glee.

He pulled back the tapestry, and looked up what, to him, looked like a vacant stairway: "Hiding are you? I got you! Dumbledore'll for certain kick you out now, you filthy, pilfering, poltergeist!"

He started up the stairs, just as he feared, his alter ego right at his heels. Mrs. Norris' lamp-like eyes, so much like her partner's looked straight at him. He hoped Invisibility Cloaks worked on cats.

He was at once relieved and horrified: relieved that Filch was interrupted, horrified at the sound of the next voice he heard. Even if he couldn't assign detentions or deduct points, he had promised to make Harry's life difficult if Harry made life difficult for him.

"Filch? What is going on?", came the unmistakable drawl of Professor Snape. He stepped onto the landing, still in his flannel night shirt, and he looked positively pist. He did stop Filch a few steps below Harry.

"Peeves, Professor, he threw this egg down the stairs".

Snape came up to the step below Filch.

"Peeves?", Snape asked. "He couldn't get into my office".

"This egg was in your office?", Filch asked.

"No, of course not!", Snape snapped at him. "I heard banging and wailing".

"Yes, Professor, that was the egg..."

"I was coming to investigate..."

"Peeves threw it..."

"And when I passed my office, I saw the torches lit and a cupboard door still ajar. Someone's been in my office!", he said, very upset.

"Peeves couldn't...", Filch started.

"Of course he couldn't! I seal my office with a charm only a wizard could break". He looked up the staircase. "I want you to come with me to help search for the intruder".

" _Go! Go! Leave please!"_ , Harry thought to himself.

"But, Professor, Sir… Peeves… Professor, I've caught him stealing from a student. This time, Dumbledore'll have no choice but to listen. This might be my one and only opportunity to have him ejected from the castle"

Mrs Norris was still taking way too much interest in Harry. He figured if she didn't see him, then she could smell the lingering scent of rose water. He hoped Snape kept him distracted enough to not notice Mrs Norris' noticing.

"I don't give a _damn_ about that wretched poltergeist, Filch! Students stealing potion ingredients for unauthorized experiments, or what's more likely, exam keys, is more important than your petty vendettas!", Snape snapped at him.

The unmistakable sound of Moody's wooden leg sounded. The one-eyed x-auror stood at the foot of the stairs. He, too, was still in night clothes.

"A pajama party?", he asked. "And no one invited me? I should feel insulted".

"Professor Moody", Snape greeted. "What brings you here?"

"Heard noises", he said.

"That was Peeves the Poltergeist throwing things again", Filch explained. "Then Professor Snape said someone broke into his off..."

"Shutup, Filch", Snape hissed at him.

Moody asked, "Someone broke into your office?"

"It's not important", Snape said.

"On the contrary", Moody disagreed, "it's very important. With all the other irregularities that have been going on this year"

"Students stealing potions ingredients from my private stores, I suspect the Weasley Twins, or exam keys, and I suspect the Weasley Twins..."

Moody looked right up the stairwell. Harry knew he could see through his Invisibility Cloak. Moody gave a slight look of surprise Harry hoped the other two didn't see.

"You wouldn't, by any chance, be hiding anything else in there, would you?"

The way the torch light from the other side of the tapestry made Moody's bent features and that part of his missing nose, stand out in sharp contrast. The skepticism was unmistakable.

"You know there isn't!", Snape snapped. "You've undoubtedly searched my office, and every other office, since you arrived".

"Auror's privilege. Dumbledore asked me to keep an eye..."

"I _highly_ doubt Albus Dumbledore ordered _you_ to search _my_ office. He trusts me completely", Snape hissed through clenched teeth.

"I know he trusts you, Snape. Dumbledore is the trusting sort, isn't he? Wants to believe the best of everyone, doesn't he? Believes in second chances, doesn't he? Me, I believe that some spots can never be removed. Spots that never. Come. Out. D'you know what I mean, Snape?"

Severus ran a hand over the inside of his left arm.

"Go back to bed, Snape", Moody told him.

"You have no authority to be ordering me around", Snape said.

Of all the times, Harry thought, he just _had_ to pick this one to score childish points.

"I'll patrol the halls any time I want", Snape continued.

"Fine by me: patrol away. I'm looking forward to meeting you in a dark corridor some night". The way he said it left no doubt but that he would shoot first, ask questions later. Moody had a reputation for being jinx-happy.

"By the way, you dropped something".

To his horror, Moody was pointing to the Map. He took a chance of being seen, of pulling up the hem of the Cloak. He waved, mouthing "It's mine!", while pointing to himself, and at the Map.

As Snape was reaching for it…

"Accio parchment!", Moody cast the Summoning Charm, sending the Map flying through Snape's fingers. "My mistake, it's mine. Must've dropped it earlier", he said.

"Pot-ter!", Snape exclaimed.

"How's that again?", Moody asked.

"Pot-ter: that's _his_ egg..."

"Those eggs all look alike, and they all work alike. It could be anyone's".

"Pot-ter's here, under his father's invisibility cloak", Snape began to reach out, like a blind man feeling his way up the stairs. Harry had to lean back.

"There's nothing there!", Moody called out. "Potter's in the airliner! He isn't here!"

"I say he is!"

"I will, of course, be reporting this to Dumbledore", Moody threatened. "Just how fast you jumped to the conclusion that Harry Potter was involved. Dumbledore thinks someone has it in for that boy, and I quite agree. I'm sure he will be interested very much as to why the first person you accuse is a boy who doesn't sleep in Hogwarts' dorms".

Moody and Snape glared at one another, like a game of chicken. Snape blinked first.

"I think I'll return to my rooms", Snape conceded. He went back the way he came.

"Best idea you had all night", Moody agreed. "Let me have that egg", Moody said to Filch.

"This is evidence..."

"It's the property of the student from whom it was taken. I will see it returned to its proper owner. Hand it over, nothing more to be done tonight". Filch reluctantly handed over the egg. An opportunity to get even with Peeves missed.

"Come, My Sweet", Filch conceded. He whistled, and Mrs Norris, with one last look back, followed Filch.

After hearing Filch's office door close, Harry took off the Cloak.

"That was a close shave, Potter", Moody said.

"Too close", Harry agreed.

"What're you doing here anyway?"

"If you would, Professor", Harry said.

"Of course", as Moody lifted him from the trick step. "Now what are you doing here?"

"I came to use the prefects' bathroom, to hear the egg's clue. You can understand it only under water. I didn't want to go for a dip in the lake and risk hypothermia, and I didn't want the Durmstrang's possibly seeing and figuring it out. The airliner has showers only".

"Interesting… You ever consider a career with the Auror Corps? Looks like you have the mind for it. You shouldn't be wandering the grounds alone at night. Certainly not under the present circumstances", Moody warned.

"What is this?", he said of the parchment.

"Map of Hogwarts. I was using it to find my way around".

" _Merlin's beard!"_ , Moody gasped as he took a good look at it. "That's _some_ map you have there".

Harry was concerned, wondering how he would explain this without revealing the illegal animagus status of Sirius.

"You wouldn't mind if I borrowed this? This could prove mighty useful. Mighty useful indeed. Just the thing I was looking for".

"No, not at all. Just don't forget where you got it".

"When my assignment here is up, you'll get it back", Moody reassured. "You didn't, by the way, see who was in Snape's office?"

"No comment", Harry replied.

"I must insist".

"I don't want to get anyone in trouble..."

"I'm not here as a representative of the DMLE, but I have to know. Depending on what you tell me, I can assure you that the Headmaster need not hear it from me".

"OK, it was Fred and George Weasley".

"And why would they be in Snape's office?"

"I'm not exactly sure, but they were hinting at something more than their Canary Cremes creation. They said it was a secret. Probably looking to nick some of Snape's rarer ingredients. They've done it before. They never took any exam keys".

"I'll forget I heard that, now let's get you back to the airliner, and no more midnight wanderings, understood?"

"Yes, Professor".

Harry was relieved Moody didn't ask more about the Map. So long as it remained open, Moody wouldn't see its splash screen and would not know about Prongs, Moonie, Wormtail, or Padfoot. Harry hated losing the Map, but it was a necessary price to pay for Moody's silence and possible future co-operation.

The next day, he told Fleur about the clue, reciting the poem.

"You have to listen under vater? 'Ow did you figure zat out?"

Harry explained about remembering that _Star Trek_ movie, and figured it was worth a try.

"Brilliant", she congratulated, "Vhot does zat mean?", she asked.

"If they can't sing above ground, then it's safe to say it isn't a bird or gryphon or something like that. Whoever they are, they're going to take something that we'll need to search for, and we'll have one hour to find and recover it. I haven't given it much thought since first hearing it", he admitted. He was still thinking about his narrow escape from Filch and Snape.

"Search vere our voices sound?", Fleur asked. "You 'eard eet under zee vater, so, maybe, zat is vere zere voices sound, under vater".

"You mean, in the lake?"

"Zat is zee logical conclusion".

Harry asked Hermione during a study hall: "You know what lives in the lake?"

"Does this have anything to do with the clue to the next task?"

"No comment".

"You're supposed to work it out on your own, the rules..."

"The same rules that said only seventeen and older could enter? Those rules?"

"Good point. You didn't read your _Hogwarts: A History_ did you?"

"Can't say I really got around to it, just skimmed it for the highlights".

"Well, if you had, you would know the lake is home to a giant squid..."

"I know, everyone knows".

That much was true as students would go to the lake, throw in bread and crackers, and it would come up. The braver students even swam with it.

"There are also grindylowes, and a colony of merpeople. Dumbledore has cultivated a relationship with them, winning their trust, and he even learned Mermish, one of the few wizards fluent in their language. It was all in the book".

"Thanks".

"You'd best be getting back to studying", she reminded.

"I know", he said.

That solved one problem, but presented another: how to find the merpeople, and especially how to handle breathing underwater. An aqualung would come in handy, but he doubted they were available anywhere in Hogsmeade. So far inland, probably no dive shops in Dufftown, the closest muggle town some twenty miles distant.

 **0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF**

"I knew it! I knew it! I knew it!", Harry exploded at breakfast.

"What..."

" _This!_ ", he handed over the _Daily Prophet_ turned to an inside page. "Zoological column my ass!"

 _DUMBLEDORE'S GIANT MISTAKE_

 _It is well known that Albus Dumbledore is the most eccentric Headmaster the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry has had since Phineas Nigellus Black. He has not shied away from controversy in hiring staff, or accepting students such as werewolves. One such appointment is the Game Keeper, Keeper of the Keys, and Care of Magical Creatures professor – one Rubius Hagrid, a man of fierce countenance and disposition. Contrary to his claims, Mr. Hagrid isn't a pure blood wizard: he isn't even completely human._

 _This reporter has uncovered the identity of his mother: the giant Wulfried. As you are undoubtedly aware, Britain's giant population dwindled to the point of near extinction due to their constant wars over the past century. Those that remained willingly joined forces with Hewhomustnotbenamed, and were responsible for a great many murders of muggles during the last wizarding war. The aurors killed those in the employ of the self styled Dark Lord. It is not known if Wulfried was among those casualties, or if she went to join one of the giant communities living in the mountains of eastern Europe. What is known is that she abandoned her son, being that love – even maternal love – is a foreign concept to giants._

 _Professor Hagrid readily admitted to this reporter that he was expelled from Hogwarts after a succession of disciplinary actions related to his life long obsession with monsters. Then Headmaster Armando Dippett and Transfigurations Professor Albus Dumbledore secured for him the position of Game Keeper_ _after his expulsion_ _. Headmaster Dumbledore appointed him Keeper of the Keys, and four years ago, he_ _charmed his way into the Care of Magical Creatures professorship, over more qualified candidates. Fourth year student Ted Nott:_

" _Last year, as if the Blast Ended Skrewts weren't bad enough, his hyppogryph damn near took my arm off. My friend, Vincent Crabbe, suffered a nasty bite from a flobberworm. We all hate him, but are too afraid to speak up"._

 _Blast Ended Skrewts are hybrids of manticores and fire crabs which Professor Hagrid created. The Department of Magical Wildlife has regulations regarding breeding such potentially dangerous creatures, but Mr. Hagrid considers himself above such petty things such as laws and regulations. "I was just having a wee bit of fun", are his exact words. So far, Headmaster Dumbledore has, once again, demonstrated his irresponsible mismanagement of Hogwarts by indulging his Care of Magical Creatures professor. It would seem that Albus Dumbledore learned nothing during his recent hiatus imposed by the Board of Governors after his failure to detect a professor possessed by Hewhomustnotbenamed for an entire term. I mean the unfortunate Quirinius Quirrel, the late Defense Against the Arts Professor Dumbledore hired two years ago._

 _In a curious turn of events, Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, and another student, Miss Hermione Granger, count Mr. Hagrid as one of their closest friends. Do they know of his background? Has the Headmaster warned his students about the true nature of their beloved Care of Magical Creatures professor? Should such a "person" be allowed to teach students?_

 _This reporter leaves it to you to decide._

– _Rita Skeeter_

"Damn her!", Harry said after Hermione had finished reading. "How in the _hell_ did she find out?"

"What do you mean?"

"During the Ball, Pansy and I came across Hagrid while he was talking to Madam Maxime in the garden. That's when we heard him say he was half-giant, but Skeeter wasn't there! I'm sure we would have seen her, unless… she was using an invisibility cloak?"

Didn't Dumbledore finally ban her from the campus? How could she get by the wards?"

"I don't know… If only I still had the Map..."

"You don't? What happened to it? You lose it?"

"I had to lend it to Mad Eye, the price of his silence when I sneaked up to the prefects' bathroom to hear the egg's message".

"Maybe she didn't overhear. You said it yourself: Hagrid doesn't know when to shut up when you get him going about critters. Skeeter could have steered the conversation any way she wanted. She's pretty good at that: getting her marks to say more than they intended.

"We should drop by and see how Hagrid's doing after class. I hope he hasn't seen that article".

"He's seen it all right", Nott called from the Slytherin table, "we made sure of that. Looks like the big oaf's days as a professor are numbered", he, Crabbe, and the rest of the Death Eater wannabes laughed.

Harry had to bite his tongue to keep from saying what he was thinking.

After class, they went to see Hagrid. They knocked on the door, Fang began frantic barking and scratching at the door, but no Hagrid.

"C'mon, open up", Harry called out. "It's us, Harry and Hermione!"

For the first time, no Hagrid.

"Maybe he went out?", Hermione said.

 **0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF**

That weekend, two days after the article about Hagrid came out, Harry and Hermione were in the library. They'd gone through: _Olde and Forgotten Bewitchments and Charmes, Saucy Tricks for Tricky Sorts,_ _Weird_ _Wizarding Dilemmas, A Guide to Medieval Sorcery, Anthology of 18_ _th_ _Century Charms, Dreadful Denizens of the Deep._ So far, nothing about how to spend an hour underwater.

"You know, we're over thinking again", Harry said as he closed _Madcap Magic for Whacky Wizards_.

"How do you mean? If we don't find something before the 24th..."

"The Tournament was restricted to those seventeen and up, right?"

"So..."

"So the answer has to be in a Seventh Year charms text, something you'd learn in the upper classes. I bet Flitwick knows something".

"You can't ask help, you know that, and so does Flitwick".

"We don't have to say it's part of the Tournament. We don't even have to ask for a recommend, just confirmation that such a charm exists. After that, we'll know where to look.

"Now, how about joining the others in Hogsmeade. Maybe we'll meet up with Hagrid".

At the Three Broomsticks, no Hagrid. They did, however, see Ludo Bagman.

"What's he doing here?", Hermione asked. "There's no Triwizard events scheduled until the 24th, is there?"

"None that I know of", Harry agreed.

Bagman was at a table in the back, chatting with a trio of goblins. It looked to be an amicable meeting. He signed a paper they presented him. The goblins shook hands all around, and Bagman saw them to the door.

"Harry!", he greeted. "How're you making out with the clue?"

"Fine, just fine", Harry didn't reveal everything he knew. "Why would you ask?"

"Well, you were entered in a most unusual way, after all. And as the youngest contestant, I feel a certain responsibility".

"So what brings you to Hogsmeade? There weren't any special events scheduled?"

"Just taking care of some unfinished business with the goblins. Wasn't easy as they weren't real fluent in English. Like the Bulgarians at the World Cup, but at least they were making themselves better understood though sign language. They were looking for Barty Crouch..."

"Looking here?", Harry asked suspiciously. "Why aren't they looking in London, at the Ministry? Don't goblins usually interact with the Ministry through the Department of Magical Wildlife or the Goblin Liaison Office?"

"That's true, but Mr. Crouch has been making himself scarce lately. He hasn't been into the office since the Triwizard Ball, and has been relying on his assistant, Percy Weasley. Percy said he's been owling instructions every day. Very peculiar, to say the least, and Mr. Weasley has been saying he's convalescing from over work".

"That doesn't look right. Mr. Crouch goes to all the effort to reestablish the Tournament, yet doesn't bother to come to the traditional Ball? Has anyone from the Ministry checked up on him? See if he's well?"

"Percy said he knows his boss's handwriting, and that no one is forging the owlposts he's been receiving. No reason not to believe him, and he shows the letters to persons around the office. He has to, as he's not the only one receiving instructions from Mr. Crouch. So far, the office has been running smoothly, so no reason to bother Mr. Crouch. I imagine it's been difficult for him, after he dismissed his house elf. Probably not too used to doing his own cleaning, cooking, laundry, yard work, and house keeping. He really should hire a house keeper or get a new elf".

"Making any progress locating Bertha Jorkins?"

"Not a dicky bird. We do know she arrived in Albania, took in the sights in the north of the country. Said she was on her way to visit a second cousin who lives in the south, but her cousin says she never arrived. Somewhere along the way, she disappeared. Not a trace".

"Isn't that unusual? A bit suspicious, I'd say".

"This is Bertha we're talking about. She's had memory problems, and is rather scatter brained. Who knows? Maybe she met someone and eloped? Anyway, congratulations on your win against the dragon, and much luck on the second task".

"I don't like it", Harry told Hermione, "the whole Ministry seems awfully incurious. One official goes missing on holiday, another turns recluse all of a sudden, and no one seems to give a damn. If I suddenly couldn't make it to work, I'd like to think at least one of my colleagues would make an effort to see how I was doing".

"Uh-oh", Hermione said.

Rita Skeeter and her photographer walked in through the door. She was wearing banana yellow robes.

"Ludo Bagman was always a terrible liar", she was saying, "showing those goblins the sights? Who believes that? Disgraced Head of Magical Games and Sports consorting with goblins: how's that for the title of an article? Maybe we should look for a story to go along with the title? Too good to waste..."

"Planning on ruining another life?", Harry said it loudly enough to make certain Skeeter overheard.

"Harry!", she greeted. "I didn't see you sitting there. So any news on the Triwizard front?', she asked.

Hermione stood: "You _horrible_ woman! _How_ could you _do_ that to Hagrid? He _trusted_ you!"

Hermione held her glass of butterbeer as though she was going to throw the contents right in Skeeter's face. Madam Rosemerta didn't notice that the flagon she was filling with mulled wine was over flowing.

"Sit down, you silly little girl. Don't attempt to discuss subjects you know nothing about. The public has a right to know what's going on so that they can make informed choices. As for Ludo Bagman, I could tell you things about him that would curl your hair… not that yours needs it".

Skeeter addressed Harry: "If you really think my article about the Care of Magical Creatures Professor was unfair, then how about an interview?", she took out her Quick Quotes Quill and parchment roll. "You can tell me all about the Hagrid you know, how you became such close friends..."

"Forget it, I wouldn't touch you with a ten foot broomstick..."

Madam Rosemerta was coming from around the bar: "Take it outside", she demanded, "I won't have this in my bar".

This is when Harry noticed the crowd had gone silent, all eyes on him, Hermione, Skeeter and her photographer.

"C'mon", Skeeter said to her companion, as she got up to leave.

"You shouldn't have done that, Earnie MacMillen told Hermione, "you do not want to be pissing off Rita Skeeter. She'll come after you now".

"She can't scare me off. My parents don't read the _Prophet,_ so she has nothing on me".

"She'll dig something up, she always does. She won't give up".

Harry hoped that the reason Bagman and the goblins were getting along so well was that they had been paid what they were owed. He hoped the extra 50,000 Galleons was enough to buy Bagman off in time for the next task.

"Harry, we need to try to see Hagrid again", Hermione said. "We can't allow him to let Skeeter get to him like this".

She led the way back to the campus, and the Game Keeper's cabin.

"Open up!", she demanded as she banged on the door. "We know you're in there!"

Fang was barking, and finally, the door opened.

"Hag… Professor?", Dumbledore answered the persistent knocking. "We were looking for Hagrid"

"So I gathered. Come on in", he stood aside.

Hagrid was sitting at the table, red-eyed, a pot of tea in front of him.

"How boud a wee bit uv thuh hair o' thuh dog?", he said.

"You've had quite enough", Dumbledore said. "You've been neglecting your visitors, among other things, I might add".

"You can't let Skeeter get to you like this", Hermione said.

"Otherwise, she wins", Harry completed that thought, "I've had more than enough bad publicity from that bird cage liner she writes for. Who the hell cares if you're half-giant? We know you and know what you and your classes are like, and we know you'd never do anything to harm anyone. As for what people you don't know, whom you've never met, whom you will never meet, think, who gives a _rat's ass_?"

"Isn't this what I've been saying?", Dumbledore asked. "Here's your living proof".

"Whud boud thuh p'fessership? Thuh parents'll be wanning me dismissed..."

"I get owls every week from someone, somewhere, complaining about how I do things. That doesn't mean I do everything they demand. Here is what I wanted to show you", Dumbledore pulled two packets from the inside of his robes.

"This one", he pointed to the small package, "is all the letters demanding that I dismiss you. This one", he pointed to a much thicker packet, "are letters from all your former students, praising your classes, and warning that they will pull donations and endowments if I dismiss you over Skeeter's article.

"Hagrid: I must refuse to accept your resignation", he took out a sheet of parchment and tore it in two. Take the weekend off; I expect you at the staff table Monday morning at 8:30 sharp".

"I bin a rye idiot", Hagrid said. Course yer rye. I 'pologize fer me conduct".

"I know what it's like", Harry said, "having bullshit written about me. It's not pleasant".

"There's an old muggle saying: 'The best revenge is living well'. Come back to class and teach it how you think is best. That'll show Skeeter what she means to you: _nothing_ ", Hermione added.

"Ah never did show ye a pic of my Dad", Hagrid said as he rummaged through a drawer. He found the photo that moved like an animated GIF. In that photo, Hagrid was clean shaven, face round and pink.

"Tahs taken juss beferr Ah leff fer Hogwarts. I weren't no great shakes at magic, but Dumblederr accepted me inniways. Dass thuh thing boud Dumblederr: he believes in givin' mose innibuddy a chance, if'n dey have inny tallen at awl. Mose of ter Heads would'na done thah".

In that photograph, Hagrid looked to be somewhere around seven feet tall, judging by an apple tree in the background.

"Dad, he died durin my second year, an Ah been on my own ever since", he explained. "Sad thing, but at leass he dint see me ezpelled from Hogwarts. He say" 'Doan be payin' attention ter them's what's judgmental. If'n ye canna respect yourseff, den nobuddy goan respect ye'. He was rye. Alla ye's rye".

"Always remember", Harry told him, "llegitimi non carborundum"

"Whuss dah mean?"

"Don't let the bastards wear you down".

"He's giving you good advice", Dumbledore reminded.

"I'll get that Skeeter if it's the last thing I ever do", Hermione promised.

"I know I'm not your Headmaster", Dumbledore said, "but I am compelled to advise that you do no such thing. Rita Skeeter can be a formidable enemy".

"I'll take that under advisement", Hermione said.

"See that you do".

 **0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF**

"Professor Flitwick, may I have a moment?", Harry caught up to the Charms professor after his class.

"What is it?", he asked.

"Do you know of any spells or charms that will allow you to remain under water for an hour or more?"

"Is this about the Tournament? You know the rules: you aren't to ask help from outside sources".

"I know you can't tell me what the spell is, or even if one exists. You could, however, tell me if one _doesn't_ exist. No violation of the rules there, is there?"

"You'd best be getting to your next class", Professor Flitwick said. "Good day, Mr. Potter".

Harry and Hermione were in the library, looking through sixth year charms texts.

"Are you sure?", she asked.

"Flitwick implied as much when I talked with him".

"He wouldn't say..."

"He could say if there wasn't one, and he didn't say there wasn't one. If it's not here, then a fifth year, or a seventh year text. Sure beats having to go through every damn book in the library at random".

"Here, this looks promising", Harry announced, "the Bubble Head charm. Says here it can be used in noxious environments to shut out toxic fumes… I wonder why Snape never mentioned it? Worth a try".

"But where..."

"We practice in the Room of Requirement".


	33. The Second Task

**The Second Task**

The discovery of the Bubble Head charm in a sixth year charms text was a load off Harry's mind. He could once again concentrate all his time and energy to getting his grades back up to their usual standard. The only remaining consideration was swimming in the lake in the middle of winter, but there were warming charms for that. All that remained was where the merpeople lived, but he figured that wouldn't be much of a problem, as they all had just one hour to complete the task, so he wouldn't be spending too much time looking for them. Either the merpeople would come looking for them, or they'd start the contest in their territory. There was just one other thing to verify…

"Professor?", Harry asked Dumbledore right after breakfast.

"Yes, Harry?"

"One question about this next task..."

"You know the rules forbid asking for outside help".

"Even a question about rules and practices?"

"Now that is permitted, what did you want to know?"

"No one is supposed to die during these tasks, isn't that true? That precautions are in place?"

"Of course they are, but you were told this back in October".

"I just want to make sure".

"Our new, revived Tournament isn't going to be like the previous ones. Excessive fatalities closed down the original Triwizard Tournaments. We won't be allowing the same mistakes".

"It's just that, during the first task, I was having my doubts".

"You can rest assured: no one will die, though the possibility of injury is still there, to make the tasks sufficiently challenging".

"Thanks, that's all I needed to know".

"Then I take it you are ready for the next task?"

"I am now".

"Then good luck, Harry".

 **0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF**

"How is Skeeter finding out about this?!", Hagrid wasn't the only one getting bad press lately.

 _Do Beaux Batons Students Have No Shame?_

 _An anonymous source has revealed to this reporter that a certain, rather plain girl of Beaux Batons has a certain obsession with famous wizards. First, it was the Boy Who Lived: Harry Potter. Perhaps Mr. Potter was too stand-offish, preferring to remain "just friends"? Lately, she has taken to toying with the affections of the Bulgarian Seeker: Viktor Krum. They were seen together at the Triwizard Ball._

 _While some girls won't kiss on a first date, Mr. Krum's partner for the Triwizard Ball spread her legs on their first date. They retired to the "Shrieking Shack". It is an open secret that the Shrieking Shack is a favourite rendezvous place, in addition to providing unauthorized access to Hogsmeade. Mr. Krum and his Triwizard Ball partner were known to have been making the shack shriek in their own manner._

 _While Mr. Krum's date has a reputation for academic excellence, she seems to lack confidence due to her muggle upbringing. Perhaps she figures academic performance isn't enough? That she needs to work her way up on her back? How is it that the Triwizard Ball was not chaperoned more responsibly?_

 _My source has also alleged that the Shrieking Shack was used as a hiding place for werewolf students for their monthly "transformations", admitted to the school by the Headmaster. It is yet another indication of Headmaster Dumbledore's mismanagement that such a place is allowed to exist._

 _Is this the kind of disgraceful conduct we want to see at Britain's premiere school for magical instruction? This reporter leaves that up to you._

– _Rita Skeeter_

This article appeared in the latest _Witch Weekly_. Rita managed to work in yet another dig at Dumbledore. Molly Weasley had a subscription, for the recipes. The cover had a picture of a bushy haired young lady looking all too much like Hermione holding up the latest confection: a sponge cake as she pointed her wand. The magazine also featured heaping helpings of gossip. Normally, _Witch Weekly_ would receive little attention since the audience for this periodical was middle aged house wives. Yet, one managed to find its way to Hogwarts.

"Had to be Ron, he left about the same time you and Viktor left the table, just before Pansy and I headed for the garden. He's perfectly capable of doing something like this. He knew about Remus, hell, Remus hangs out at the Burrow all the time so he must've mentioned it. His jealousy, it really brings out his Inner Asshole. Surely it hasn't escaped you that he has a fixation on you?"

"If he wanted to go to that Ball with me so badly, then why didn't he ask?"

"I don't know, maybe because he fears rejection? I don't know the asshole all that well, and I never cared to. Even as a Firstie, I was sweating that Hat lest it send Ron to Slytherin. I can't imagine sharing a dorm with him. He's all kinds of fucked up, maybe because he's the kid brother, maybe because he's trying too hard to live up to the examples Bill, Charlie, and Percy set. Maybe because he's second in line to Ginny the only girl. I wouldn't even count out Dumbledore as a factor".

"What are you going to do about him?"

"I honestly don't know. It's complicated: I'm getting to like the Twins, despite their malicious pranks on the other students, especially the Badgers. Like all bullies, they pick on the victims least likely to fight back. They wouldn't dare fuck with the Snakes, and even the book worms show some backbone. I certainly like Bill and Charles: they helped us out on more than one occasion. Arthur and Molly have been most thoughtful, so how do you explain to them that they have a rotten kid? Ron's their family too, and they're not gonna want to hear it. Certainly not from an outsider. As for Ron, himself, he just _never_ learns. I suppose this means no more invites to the Burrow?

"You really shouldn't've pissed her off, yannow".

"I'm _so_ gonna get that bitch!"

"Haven't you done enough?"

"You _saw_ what she did to Hagrid! _How_ can you just let that pass?! _Someone_ needs to teach her a lesson! How is she doing it?"

"I saw what she did to Hagrid, how she took advantage of his naivete, his trusting nature. Skeeter twists words to suit her, and is always looking for that next sensational story. If she can't find one, she makes one. She's done it to me on more than one occasion. None too different in the muggle world. Same rules apply: move that copy first and foremost. If journalism happens, that's a side benefit. She's a thoroughly disgusting excuse for a reporter, and I use that term loosely. But, Hermione, you don't need to hand it to her on a silver platter! Take it from someone who's been there; done that. Don't be opening any strange owl posts. You won't be able to do anything about the howlers: they open on their own if you don't"

"But, _how_ does she find out?"

"All I know is that it's not some sort of invisibility cloak. Moody would have seen through that. He can see right through mine, and mine's by far the best invisibility cloak out there. You don't even need a cybernetic eye for most of them as there's always some visual distortion anyway if you're paying attention and know what to look for. Maybe some sort of bug, or something..."

"Muggle tech doesn't work around the magical fields".

"Some do", he was thinking of Lucius' bugs.

"Which..."

"Technomage electronics… I mean, you didn't… really?"

Getting no answer was an answer in itself.

"Hermione!"

"OK, it happened. It just… sort of... happened. Viktor… me, the dancing and the Ball, and he's a real cute guy..."

"There's gonna be talk, especially Ron and that yap of his".

Hermione's troubles were just getting started. The Death Eater wannabes made sure of that. The dreaded call to Madam Maxime's office came.

"Mademoiselle Granger, vot deed I say about zee conduct I expected of my students before vee left zee campus?". She had a copy of the dreaded periodical, turned to Skeeter's article. "'Ow does zis make Beaux Batons look?"

"It's that Rita Skeeter, she's had..."

"Zis ees not about Skeeter. Zere vould not be anyzing for 'er to write about eef you had stayed viz zee rest of your class at zee Ball, vould zere?"

"No, Ma'am".

"Vile I expected a certain amount of – 'ow shall vee say – boy/girl social interaction, zis ees going vay too far. I vont ask eef you did anyzing or not because zat no longer matters. Everyone vill zink you deed.

"Vot am I to do viz you, 'Ermione? You vill spend zee rest of zee term 'ere in zee airliner, or at 'Ogwarts for class. Ozzer zan zat, no 'Ogsmeade veekends, no going to see zee tasks. You vill go straight to class, and come straight back. If you are not in class, you vill remain 'ere. Ees zat understood, 'Ermione?"

"Yes, Ma'am".

Madam Maxime's punishment turned out to be a blessing in disguise. Not being at Hogwarts meant not being there to hear all the comments. Sure, some of the girls made snide remarks, and some Beaux Batons boys expected Hermione to put out for them as well. As for hateowls, Madam Maxime saw to it that these were intercepted. Some of them included toxic substances like raw bulbotuber pus. Professor Sprout grew it in the greenhouses, and refined it made for skin care potions. Unprocessed, the effects were nasty and painful, though not usually fatal.

 **0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF**

At 8:00, Harry made his way to the lake, where he saw the boats the Firsties took waiting. Harry wore his winter cloak over a swim suit. He hoped that the warming charm would at least keep hypothermia at bay. Otherwise, the prospect of going for a swim was hardly appealing. The boat ferried the four champions across the lake where a floating platform awaited. The boats would be ferrying the audience later. He hoped that that platform wasn't too far from the merpeoples' territory.

"Right-o", Bagman greeted, "are we ready for the next task?", he asked.

"As ready as I'll ever be", Harry agreed.

"Then are we all clear on what you have to do?"

"I am", Harry agreed again.

The other three champions also knew, so Cedric and Viktor must've figured out the egg. They all were instructed to bring them to turn them back over to Bagman.

"You can warm up in the waiting room", he indicated where they should go. "Once the spectators are in the stand, and it's 9:30, I'll blow my whistle to start the second task. You will have one hour to complete it. Is that understood?"

"Yes", they all agreed.

Harry looked around, but still no Barty Crouch.

"Ummmm… Mr. Weasley", Harry asked, "Mr Crouch still isn't here?"

"I will be taking his place for the judging. I'm afraid his condition is more serious than he let us believe. He's still sending owls every day, and he trusts me completely to fulfill judging the Tournament".

"Still no word about Berta?"

"Not a peep. We do have investigators looking for her as we speak".

"'Bout damn time. Has anyone bothered to check up on Mr. Crouch?"

"He values his privacy. If he wanted visitors, he would invite them, so far, he hasn't and I see no reason to be bothering him".

"It seems so strange… he goes to all the trouble to reestablish the Tournament, yet doesn't come to the Ball or the next task. That doesn't seem right..."

"If he wants visitors, he'll ask. He's a big boy, yannow, and can take care of himself. He's still doing his job from home, and while he does, there's no reason to question him. I can assure you: I'd recognize if someone were forging the owlposts. I know my boss' handwriting. I would think you have more pressing matters to engage your attention, Mr. Potter".

Percy indicated that the conversation was over, but it still seemed that the Ministry was being very incurious, both as to the disappearance of one official, Berta Jorkins, and the sudden illness of another.

"Mornin' all", Harry announced as he entered the waiting room.

"Mornin'", they greeted back, but not quite so enthusiastically.

"So how'd you crack the egg?", Harry asked.

"It vas trail 'n' error", Viktor said. I tried everyzing else, and finally took it into zee lake".

"Same for me", Cedric replied. "I tried everything else, and figured it out just last night. You?"

Harry explained about the _Star Trek_ movie he'd seen, and the sudden inspiration.

"Zat vuz in a muggle movie?"

"Sure was, so muggles aren't completely useless, are they?"

"I never thought so", Cedric explained, "I don't share Father's disdain for everything muggle. I'll have to look into that movie someday".

"What do you suppose is so important down there?", Cedric asked.

"No idea", Harry said, "nothing missing from my room that I noticed".

They could hear the footsteps of the arriving spectators climbing into the stands. It wouldn't be too much longer.

Finally Bagman arrived to cast the warming charms over each contestant. Harry hoped he was playing this straight. If he wasn't, Harry knew he'd be in big trouble seconds after diving into the frigid water.

"Last night something you value dearly was taken from each one of you. It is your mission to recover that from the merpeople. They are clear as to the role they are playing in the task. They won't interfere, neither will they help you in any way. It will be up to you to make your recovery and be back at the platform before 10:30 sharp. Are there any last minute questions?"

There were none.

"Right-o, shall we go?"

He led them to the edge of the platform to begin his announcement:

"Welcome to the second task of the Triwizard Tournament. The mission of our Champions is to recover something we took last night, something they value greatly, from the merpeople. They will have exactly one hour to recover what was taken, and to be back on the platform. They will be judged on the speed of recovery, the level of ingenuity in accomplishing this task, and how they deal with the hazards awaiting them down below.

"Champions! Wands ready! On my mark..."

He blew the whistle as the clock above the stands struck 9:30. Harry dived in, and didn't feel the icy cold. The water seemed very chilly, but hypothermia wouldn't be a problem as long as he kept moving. He cast the Bubble Head Charm, and slipped under the surface. Even though the bubble surrounding his head seemed as fragile as a soap bubble, it was tough enough to stand the pressure as it worked like a dive helmet. He could see clearly as he began his dive.

Silver fish flashed by, but there was no sign of the squid. That was good as he couldn't spare the time to play with it if it got frisky. So far, no sign of merfolk. The bottom came into view, and Harry understood why this task was scheduled for the middle of winter: very little algae to darken the water. So far, nothing exciting to see, just mud. No sign of the other champions either.

He figured they'd be pretty deep, so he took out his wand: "Point me", he cast the direction finding charm that made his wand function like a compass. It was a useful spell he'd seen in one of the spell books he'd studied. Every once in awhile, shapes appeared ahead, but were nothing more than logs blackened by decay, or large stones. Still no sign of the merfolk. The quiet was eerie, but not unexpected as Black Lake didn't have muggle motorboats ever operating on it.

A field of gently waving green fronds lay ahead. Nothing like the kelp beds of the Pacific he'd seen in nature documentaries back home. This looked more like a meadow. Suddenly, something grabbed his ankle. He whipped around: a grindylowe. He pulled his wand from its holster: "Relashio!", he cast the releasing spell.

The wand shot forth a jet of what looked like steam. That made the grindylowe let go, but more were coming, grabbing at him, trying to pull him into the weeds. "Stupify!", he fired at another. "Impedimentia!", he shot over his shoulder as he swam away as fast as he could, cursing himself all the while for forgetting what he learned about these water demons in DADA. That's what they liked to do: lurk in tall underwater weeds to pull under the unsuspecting. They undoubtedly accounted for drownings of muggles that otherwise went unexplained, usually blamed on freak undercurrents.

Finally over the "meadow", he looked back. Angry red splotches appeared on the grindylowe's skin where the steaming water hit him. His companions shook their fists at him from the edge of the green fronds.

He looked all around, but still no sign of the other champions, no sign of the squid either. He checked his watch: 30 minutes left, and he hadn't a clue. He held his breathe and strained to hear through the silence.

Was he imagining things? Maybe, or maybe not, as he thought he heard something. He tried to locate the direction. Soon, there was something:

 _An hour long you have to look  
_ _To recover what we took  
_ _Your time's half done so tarry not  
_ _Lest what you seek stays here to rot_

There was a large stone ahead, and he could see it had paintings of mermen who were carrying tridents, and looked to be a hunting party after the giant squid, or one of its ancestors. He wondered how they managed that, what they used to paint underwater. He pressed on, and soon stone houses appeared from the gloom ahead. The walls green with algae, and the faces of the inhabitants pressing their faces against the glass. They looked nothing like the painting of the fairy tale mermaid in the prefects' bathroom. Their hair green, long, and uncombed. Their skin a light gray. Their eyes yellow, as were their teeth.

They had front yards planted with that same green weed, and one had a pet grindylowe tethered to a stake. He knew he must be on the fringes of a merpeople village. More stone houses appeared, though larger and fancier. Some even sporting gingerbread. Some of the merfolk came out to get a better look, and to cheer him onward as they waved their tridents.

Finally, he came to the village square which was lined with merpeople spectators. The centerpiece of the village square was a large statue of some merperson hero. There was a placard explaining who this was, but it was written in Mermish. Four people were tied to the tail of the statue. He quickly recognized Pansy, Hermione, Gabrielle, and Cho Chang. Pansy was tied by a foot with thick, green rope obviously woven from those green fronds. It was thick and tough. He couldn't break it. He could see Pansy was OK, as a thin stream of bubbles escaped her lips. He looked all around: where were the others?

He approached a merman spectator, motioning to borrow his trident. He pulled it back: "We do not help", he said in English with a laugh. He tried untying the knot around her ankle, then around the tail of the merman, but neither would budge. He looked around on the ground for something, anything. He spotted what looked like a crude stone knife. Its edge sharper than he expected. He figured it was left there deliberately. No one had any reason to expect they'd need a knife. He began to cut away at the frond rope. After a couple of minutes, it began to give way. Pansy began to slowly float towards the surface, but where were the others? There wasn't much time left…

He spotted a shape coming. This looked like a half-man/half shark – like an animagus who didn't quite get it right, or a badly done cross species transfiguration. Viktor Krum or Cedric? He was trying to bite through Hermione's bindings, so Viktor. The problem was he was doing it with jaws more suited to biting a full grown seal in half. Before he accidentally did that to Hermione, Harry sharply tapped a shoulder to offer him the knife. He got to work, and Harry took Pansy to the surface. It was slow going, but as they surfaced, Pansy spat out a stream of water.

"I'm OK", she reassured.

"You up to helping? I'm not such a good swimmer".

Krum bobbed to the surface with Hermione, followed soon after by Cedric and Cho Chang.

"You seen Fleur?", Harry called out.

"She didn't make it", Cedric said.

The platform was a good quarter mile off, and Cedric, being a powerful swimmer, soon over took Harry and Viktor. He got there first, followed by Viktor, then Harry. They were accompanied by a group of merpeople. It became obvious that the merfolk were taking care of all of them in case anyone needed help. They could hear the audience cheering them onward from the stands.

When Cedric climbed onto the platform, the Badgers went wild with cheering. The same from the Durmstrang and Beaux Batons students as Viktor and Harry arrived right behind him.

Madam Maxime was doing her best to hold back a frantic Fleur. Her face and arms had numerous cuts and scrapes. She was brushing off Madam Pomphrey who was insisting on treating her.

"Vere izz Gabrielle?! Vere ees my leetle seester?! _I_ _'ave to go back!_ "

"Not to worry, Miss Delacourt", Dumbledore was saying, "here she comes now", as he pointed to something out in the lake.

Gabrielle was being escorted by a large mermaid.

"Ess she alvight?!"

"She's as good as new", Dumbledore reassured, as he helped the girl onto the platform.

"Thank you, Madam Murcus for your assistance", Dumbledore said to the chief mermaid in Mermish.

"You are quite welcome", she said, "you have some courageous students", she complimented. "Happy to be of some assistance for your contest".

Fleur hugged her sister tight: "Eet vas zee grindylowes, zey attacked me! I zaught I lost you!"

Hermione and Viktor were discussing something they didn't quite hear.

"Hermi-own-ninny, you haff a vater beetle in your hair. Here...", as he flicked it away.

"Inside!", Pomphrey ordered. "Warming potion and hot chocolate". She also had heavy blankets for all the champions and hostages. "You can get your scores later".

There would be no arguing with her, and they knew it.

They each, champions and hostages, received a draught of Pepper-Upper potion and a mug of hot chocolate to wash it down. Pomphrey was finally able to tend to Fleur's wounds.

"You don't want to get these infected", she remonstrated over the delay.

When Madam Pomphrey was satisfied everyone was OK, none suffering the effects of hypothermia, she released them to hear how they'd done. The results were disappointing.

"Cedric Diggory was back with his hostage first", Bagman began his announcement.

There was pandemonium from the section where the Hufflepuff's sat.

"However", Bagman held up his hands to quiet them, "he arrived at the platform one minute past the deadline. As none of the champions completed this task in the allotted time, all are disqualified..."

He was interrupted by loud booing. He waited until the crowd settled down.

"The standings remain as they were at the end of the first task", he continued. "We will meet again for the third – and final – challenge in three months at dusk, the 24th of May. The champions will be informed as to the nature of the challenge one month in advance. Thank you all for coming out to support your champions".

"That was disappointing", Harry said to Pansy, as they rode the boats back to Hogwarts, "all that work and fuss over those damned eggs for nothing".

"It wasn't a complete waste of time, was it? You did get to see the merfolk. How were they?"

"They were fine, it looked like an event for them as well".

Harry described for her what he'd seen of the merpeople and their village. The gathering of merfolk in the village square to see how the human champions did.

"There's one thing", he said, "how do they have glass panes and steel tridents and other tools to make huge carvings? How do you melt sand and iron to cast window glass and forge tools underwater? I wonder what other tech they have?"

"That's a good question", she agreed. "I don't suppose they'd tell us if we asked?"

"I don't see how. They seem to be quite insular. They don't seem to want to have anything to do with us, and the only reason they helped was as a special favour to Dumbledore. So what happened?"

"We were brought to Dumbledore's office well after Lights Out. That's when Dumbledore explained what the task was, and our part in it. He explained that there was no danger, and that the merfolk would make certain none of us actually drowned. He used a stasis charm, and the merfolk took care of the rest. The next thing we knew is that we were in the lake, on our way back to the platform.

"I figured as much, but I double checked with the Professor before the task. Not wanting to see that song come true: 'What we've taken will stay here to rot' – not a pleasant thought".

"If I thought that were a possibility, I'd've hit him with a curse, Azkaban or no Azkaban", she agreed. "I think we all would have".

 **0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF**

 _Dear Harry,_

 _Good job with the second ordeal. Pleased to see that nothing went wrong, even though the lake would provide excellent cover for an attack or a convenient "accident". It_ _would seem that our plan to co-opt Ludo Bagman was successful, as he_ _didn't sabotage your warming charm nor did he concoct some excuse to award you more points despite that none of you accomplished your task in time_ _. It looks like any attempts against you will happen during the time of the third ordeal. That makes good strategic sense, though it leaves just the one opportunity, to instill a sense of false security. Be sure you don't fall for it._

 _P.S. When is your next Hogsmeade weekend? There is something we need to discuss. I would do this by owlpost, but it's your godfather. He's getting more and more antsy by the day. Can you bring food with you?_

 _Regards,_

 _Lucius Lutra_

Harry sent back the date of the next Hogsmeade weekend, which would be in a couple of weeks. Now that the second task was behind him, he quickly got his grades back in order. The only distraction was everyone wanted to hear all about what the merpeople were like, and the descriptions of their village. With the Hogsmeade event upcoming, Harry asked the Twins about the kitchens.

"Getting in is easy, George explained, "you go down to the first floor, like you're going to the dungeons, but in the opposite direction. If you get lost, just ask a Badger: their Common Room is near the kitchens. Then just tickle the pear, and you're in".

"You don't have to worry, the house elves are quite willing to please and never rat you out to the Professor. We go down there all the time. We'll go with you", Fred said. "Best to go in the afternoon, when they're not so busy".

Harry met up with the Twins at mid-afternoon. Fortunately, he didn't have any classes, though the Twins were skiving yet again. However, it was Magical History with the ghost: Binns. In the main hall, they headed in the opposite direction from the Slytherin Common Room, and down a flight of stairs. Unlike the dungeons, this corridor was well lit without the gloom. Murals covered the walls, all still lifes of bowls of fruit and platters of food. One was a bowl of fruits of various kinds, and a large green pear. Fred tickled the pear and it began to squirm and giggle. Finally, it turned into a green door handle and the entrance appeared.

Hogwarts kitchen was an enormous facility, with a massive fireplace opposite the entrance. Copper kettles and mixing bowls, polished to mirror finishes, lined the walls. There were also iron skillets. Wood fired ovens and ranges. Preparation tables that were the right height to accommodate the elves stood directly below the serving tables of the Great Hall, so the food could be sent up.

"Master Harry", Tippy greeted. The other elves, males bowed, and females curtsied, in greeting.

"You know each other?", Fred asked.

"Oh, yeah, we've worked together before", Harry didn't explain further.

"Would masters please come?", Tippy said, as he led them to the fireplace. Seated on a low stool was a sad sight.

"W...winky?", Harry recognized Crouch's house elf from the World Cup. Her tomato nose hard to forget. She was wearing what at one time looked like a nice blouse and skirt, now filthy. It was obvious she wasn't bathing. Empty butterbeer bottles lay scattered around.

"She's up to six a day", Tippy said.

"Doesn't sound too bad, butterbeer's not that strong", Harry said.

"Tis strong for a house elf", he explained.

"You remember me?", Harry asked.

"Where is your companion with the big hair and subversive mouth?", Winky looked up with watery eyes and spoke with a furry tongue.

"You mean Hermione? She couldn't come. What happened?"

"Winky has nowhere else to go, so she came to 'Ogwarts. No one wants a disgraced elf… My poor master, my poor Mr. Crouch… no Winky to take care of him no more".

"I'm sure he'll get along", George told her. "So he has to do his own housework, he'll get used to it. Might even do him some good".

"You doan understand… Winky does more than house work. Winky is... Winky is... a con... con...".

"A confidant?", Harry asked.

"What you said, after his missus passed, he have on one else besides Winky".

"You wouldn't happen to know if your departure had anything to do with why Mr. Crouch isn't coming to the Tournament events? Has he been ill?"

"Master… not come?"

"Haven't seen him since November", Harry explained.

"Poor master… poor master… no Winky to take care of him no more. I is not surprised… That Bagman… he _bad, bad_ wizard..."

"You're not the only one to say that, can you tell us why Mr. Bagman is a bad wizard? Did he do something to Mr. Crouch?"

"Now you nosin'. Winky is good elf. I is keeping Master's secrets".

"It could be important, and lives could be at stake".

"You nosin like Bushy Hair… Winky is good elf; Winky not say nothin' Winky not betray master's trust".

"When Crouch dismissed you, all your obligations to him ended. You know that".

"Winky still good elf, do not ask Winky to lower herself any more..."

They weren't going to get any more from her as she passed out. A couple of elves covered her.

"You could make an effort to cheer her up, not cover her up", Harry said.

"Disgraceful, we is sorry master had to see that. When there's work to be done, masters to serve an elf don't need no cheering up".

"She's sad, and misses her old master..."

"A house elf has no right to be sad! When there's work, elf is happy".

This is something Harry knew he'd have to mention to Lucius.

"I was wondering if we could get some leftovers", Harry got to the point.

"What were you needing?"

"Chicken, ham, veggies".

The elves' eyes lit up: "Right away master", one said.

They loaded him up with a dozen fried chicken legs, a ham, roast beef, boiled red skin potatoes with melted parmesian in garlic sauce, chocolate eclairs, pies and puddings. They even provided a carrying case with stasis charm to keep everything fresh. Fred and George loaded up as well. Harry knew Sirius would appreciate it.

"So they don't feed you well in the airliner?", George asked

"It's for a friend. Don't ask".

Getting to Hogsmeade was easy with the invisibility cloak and the passage under the whomping willow. This time, there would be no exception: Fourth Years and up. Lucius' return post said to go to the stile at the end of the lane out of Hogsmeade, past Dervish and Bangs at about 2:30.

Harry had never come this way before, as most Hogsmeade weekends ended at the Three Broomsticks or Madam Puddifoot's or the other shops towards the center of the town. Past Dervish and Bangs, the winding lane was leading towards open country and the foot of the mountain that towered over Hogsmeade. The cottages thinned out, but their yards and gardens were larger.

At the stile, a big black shaggy dog was waiting, paws on the topmost bar, tail wagging. Harry looked around before taking off the Cloak.

"Hello, godfather", Harry greeted.

The dog sniffed at Harry's pocket eagerly before trotting off, across the scrubby ground that led to the foot of the mountain. He climbed over the stile to follow. Going up the mountain was a good deal easier on four feet than two. He followed the wagging tail up a very rough, winding trail that sometimes all but disappeared completely. Sirius sometimes woofed encouragement, as it was hard going. Half an hour later, the tail disappeared. Harry saw a narrow fissure in the rock face where Sirius disappeared.

The small cave was cool and well illuminated. Sirius returned to human form, but wasn't alone.

"Long time, no see", Harry greeted Lucius.

"Hello Harry, been awhile", Lucius agreed.

He took the pack of food from a pocket and reversed the charm that shrank it to a more convenient size.

"Fried chicken!", Sirius dug in. "You have _no_ idea how sick of fish I am".

"What's this all about? Why take such a dangerous chance, especially coming here to Hogsmeade?"

"Your godfather insisted", Lucius explained. "It's not easy, being cooped up in Owlery Holt for so long. He was most insistent, and your godfather can be most persuasive, as you well know".

"You, Lucius, and Dumbledore are the only non-Marauders who know I'm an animagus", Sirius explained, "so it's not so much of a risk, certainly not enough to keep me from seeing my favourite godson, to get out into fresh air and sunshine. I have twelve years' worth to catch up on, yannow.

"Help yourself", Sirius indicated the platters of food he brought.

"I'll do just that", Harry agreed.

"How 'bout you?", Harry said to Lucius between mouthfuls of ham and chicken.

"It smells delightful, but people food is very bad for otters and ferrets. I must decline".

After eating his fill: "So what's this all about?", Harry asked.

"It concerns Barty Crouch and his sudden, mystery illness", Lucius explained. "Percy Weasley's explanation of overwork and the need to recover as the excuse for missing that Triwizard Ball was plausible enough. It doesn't take this long to recover from a simple case of overwork. I went by Crouch's home, and as far as I could see, no one's been living there for at least two or three months", Lucius said.

"I know Barty Crouch quite well, Harry, and if he ever took a sick day, I'll eat Lucius here..."

"Hey!"

"You know what I mean", Sirius explained. "The one word that best describes Barty is driven. He was a real hard-ass back during the last war when he headed the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. He matched the Death Eaters in savagery, authorized the use of Unforgivables, and kill on sight orders. He's a powerful wizard, and power hungry. Don't misunderstand: he would never ally himself with Whatshisname, his hatred for black magic and dark mages is sincere. However the means he chose were every bit as bad as those of his opponents. He always believed he was destined to be one of the youngest Ministers of Magic, and worked relentlessly for that goal. He was the one who put me – and I wasn't the only one – in Azkaban without a trial, and who kept me there all those years. He was all too willing to overlook the niceties of the law, like the right to a fair and speedy trial, for instance. You know he sentenced his own son to Azkaban?"

"Dumbledore showed me his memory of that", Harry explained.

"I was there when they brought him in, couldn't've been much more than nineteen. By that evening, he was crying for his mother. After a few days, he went silent. They always do, unless they're screaming in their sleep. Just lose the will to live. You can always tell when there's going to be a death as the dementors get more excited than usual. Barty Crouch Jr was always a sickly boy: I'm surprised he lasted as long as he did. After about a year, he died. Being Barty Crouch, he got a death bed visit, he and Mrs Crouch. He didn't even send for the body, and the dementors buried him outside the fortress. I watched them do it.

"A major crisis brings out the best in some, and the worst in others. Barty Crouch fits the latter. At the time, people were all too willing to look the other way. After all, they reasoned, Crouch was doing it for a good cause. He was freeing them from the terror Whatshisname was creating. It wasn't until after Whatshisname ceased being a threat and Barty Jr died that doubts began to spread. There was sympathy for the boy that he never got when he was alive, when it would have made a difference. People asked how such a promising young man from such a good and prominent family could go so wrong. They sympathized with his mother, whose death shortly followed: stricken down by grief. They began to ask if old Barty should have spent less time at the office and more time getting to know his own son. If he was that indifferent to his own immediate family, how could he be trusted with the Minister's office? The public is notoriously fickle, so Barty's popularity waned, support for becoming Minister dried up. Cornelius Fudge became Minister, and Barty was given a sideways promotion into the Department of International Magical Co-operation. There was a considerable pay increase and an Order of Merlin, First Class thrown in for good measure, but he was denied a position from which he could ever use to become the Minister".

"So was his son guilty?"

"I honestly don't know. Barty Jr was caught in the company of some very dubious characters, and some of Whatshisname's worst of the worst. I don't know if he went willingly, involuntarily, or if he was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. I don't know if he took the Dark Mark or not. All I do know is that Barty Jr became a liability to his father's ambition and so he had to go. I doubt Crouch cared one way or the other.

"To this day, Crouch believes that catching one more Death Eater will see him recover his old popularity. To say it's a mania with him is an understatement. This is why it's so unlike him to suddenly drop off the radar like he's apparently done".

"Percy says he's conducting business via owl post", Harry repeated what he'd heard from Percy.

"Sirius is right: it doesn't fit his pattern, and I don't like it when patterns suddenly don't fit", Lucius said. "Other than owlposts, there's no evidence he's even alive. Percy claims he knows his boss' handwriting, but what experience in documents does he have? Expert forgers have been fooling experts for centuries.

"Have you noticed anything amiss at Hogwarts?"

"No, nothing. The second ordeal went off without a hitch, other than we weren't given enough time to complete it. We were all disqualified for being over the time limit".

"No impostors appearing on the Map?"

Harry was hoping he didn't ask that: "Last time I checked… no… I had to lend it to Moody".

"Harry! That's the _last_ thing you should have done!"

"I had to, Moody covered for me with Filch and Snape after I sneaked into the prefects' bathroom to hear the egg's message..."

"That was foolish, you should have taken whatever detentions they pleased to lay on you. What could they do? You're not even a student! Maybe a tongue lashing from Dumbledore and Maxime. You should have kept that Map".

"I think we can trust Alistair Moody. He was an auror, yannow".

"I knew him", Sirius said. "He was always tough, but not like Crouch: he never sacrificed his integrity. Always brought in suspects alive unless he couldn't help it. Never allowed himself to sink to the same depths as the Death Eaters. He has a reputation for being a jinx-happy paranoiac, but considering everything he's seen – done – that's understandable. There is more than one reason why they call him 'Mad Eye'. As with everything else, it's an exaggeration, one which he probably cultivated to make him seem more intimidating. Why did he want the Map?"

"Said he found it useful. I suppose he's doing the same: looking out for infiltrators and impostors".

"I still don't like it, Harry's having to depend on anyone else to detect potential dangers", Lucius objected.

"There is one thing I recently learned", Harry said.

"Oh?", Lucius and Sirius asked.

"Crouch's house elf, Winky, is at Hogwarts. Last time I saw her, she was really lit up, but she did mention something about what a bad wizard Ludo Bagman is. I know Crouch never thought highly of Bagman, considering him unworthy of a Ministry post, so I suppose she'd parrot that opinion. She alluded to some dark secrets about Mr. Crouch".

"Did she say..."

"Couldn't get anything out of her. She still thinks of Crouch as her master, and refused to divulge what she knows even though the enchantment's broken".

"That is interesting… looks like I'll be paying her a visit".

"I don't see how. She's in the kitchens all day, drinking herself silly on butterbeer. Elves all over all day. You'd be seen. Doesn't look like she's long for this world: getting dismissed has taken her will to live".

"Let me worry about that. We need to know even if I have to pry it out of her mind. I'd like to borrow your Invisibility Cloak. Don't risk coming up here again, just owl it after you get back to Hogwarts".

"Send more goodies", Sirius requested.

"On one condition", Harry said.

"And that would be?"

"No prowling Hogsmeade, even as Padfoot. At the very least, I'm not looking forward to rescuing you from the animal shelter".

 _Hogwarts: Double Potions_

Professor Snape was riding the Gryffindor's hard as usual.

"How about we break up this happy trio? Mr. Pot-ter, up front by my desk. Hermione, you work with Miss Parkinson, and you Mr Malfoy: you work with the rest of the Slytherin students. Mr. Longbottom needs to learn his lessons on his own. I do not tolerate cheating, is that understood?"

Today's lesson was the Forgetfulness Potion. Once again, Snape was accusing Neville of receiving unauthorized help to complete the assignment. Ever since his success with the Shrinking Potion, Snape was giving him extra scrutiny.

Harry knew better than to argue. He made it obvious he didn't want Harry in his class, but had to accept him as a Beaux Batons student.

Snape stopped by Dean Thomas' cauldron and stopped him from adding something: "Do these scarabs look powered to you, Mr. Thomas? Ten points from Gryffindor"

"Unacceptable Mr. Weasley", Snape emptied Ron's cauldron with a wave of his wand. "Start over, and another twenty points from Gryffindor".

Snape stopped by Neville's cauldron, but said nothing. He found nothing wrong, but denied him any sort of compliment.

Half way through the class, they were interrupted by the arrival of Igor Karkarov.

"We need to talk..."

"After my class..."

"No, now, before you can slip away again. You've been avoiding me..."

"After. My. Class, Igor. Now isn't the time".

"Fine, I'll wait".

That's just what he did: stood behind Snape while the lesson was underway. Harry got a real case of the slows, cleaning up and putting away.

"We have to talk", Igor was saying as the students were filing out of the room.

"What is so urgent?", Snape asked.

Harry ducked under the desk, to clean up some armadillo bile he accidentally-on-purpose spilled to delay his leaving.

"This!", as Karkarov rolled up his left sleeve. "It hasn't been this clear in over ten years!"

"Put. That. Away", Snape drawled…

Pot-ter! Just what do you think you're doing?!", he snapped.

"Nothing, just cleaning up..."

"Leave it: pack up and get out!"

"Yes, Professor"

"You can't deny this is happening...", Harry heard Karkarov say as he stepped into the hall. He didn't need to hear the rest. He knew all about it already. Karkarov was increasingly worried, and was seeking answers from Snape, or he wanted to enlist him for something. That he was having second thoughts over being a Death Eater was a given. As to why, turning state's evidence against so many of Voldemort's minions wasn't making him very popular with those followers.

That evening, after supper, Harry went to the kitchen to reload the food carrier with more goodies for Sirius. At the owlery, he shrunk down the package to make it more convenient for owling.

"Hedwig, have a job for you".

The snowy owl flew down from the rafters to land on his shoulder.

"Just a short flight this time, up to the mountain above Hogsmeade. Deliver it to Lucius and Sirius".

Hedwig gave a hoot of understanding before flying out of the owlery.


	34. Barty Crouch Returns

**Barty Crouch Returns**

Even though Harry's cloak was way too big for Lucius, it served its purpose, allowing him to pass through the streets of Hogsmeade, into Honeyduke's and one of the secret entrances into Hogwarts unseen. He had to wait inside Honeyduke's until the proprietor needed to go to his stock room. The entrance to the basement was behind the counter. He slipped through the door before it closed. Down a flight of wooden stairs. The basement was filled with boxes stacked along the walls. The floor dusty, he had to magick away his footprints lest they betray the location of the trap door that blended seamlessly with the floor.

Down a flight of stone steps, at least a couple hundred or more, to the passage itself. It was far underground, a winding, earthen tunnel like a large rabbit burrow. Finally, the passage seemed to be going up at a gentle incline. The end, another set of stone steps up to a ladder that led to the third floor of Hogwarts. The Hogwarts end exited at the statue of a hunch backed witch whose hump opened. He put the Cloak back on before exiting, seeing the corridor was thankfully deserted.

There was no way he could reach the pear that opened the door to the kitchen, but Fred was there, waiting. He stuck his head out.

"I'm here", he said.

"Right on time".

It was no imposition as Fred and George were frequent visitors. The Twins kept their younger brother in the dark about how they were always coming up with extra treats. He could always use some extra food, especially desserts.

"Master Fred", one of the elves greeted. "We have some eclairs, and Yorkshire pudding".

"That would be fine, thank you".

"Will you have some tea as well?"

"Certainly"

Lucius noticed Winky sitting, as usual, by the fireplace. She was staring into the fire, ever more filthy. The finery she got from Crouch was so dirty she almost blended into the background of fire blackened brick. She was already half out of it when he stunned her and levitated her across the floor. The elves were too busy, setting up for the evening meal, to notice her sudden disappearance. He doubted they'd notice Winky's absence for a good long while, if at all. They had no use for an elf who wasn't doing her job.

"Thanks again", Fred said as he took his leave.

"Any time, Master Fred, you is always welcome".

Lucius slipped out with him, and set off for the Room of Requirement. Forch, it wasn't in use. He paced back and forth, saying what he needed, and the door appeared on the thrid pass.

"Enervate", he cast the reversal spell.

Winky, bleary-eyed, looked around: "Where is I?"

"Where you house elves call the 'Come and Go Room'. I'm Lucius Lutra, by the way. Pleased to meet you".

"Who is you? What do you want with Winky?"

"The first order of business is you're going to take a bath. You stink".

"I is not! You is letting Winky go!"

"Yes, you is!"

She began to scream, run around looking for an exit.

"Scream some more, no one can hear you. No one cares, and they'll won't be missing you. The other house elves think you're useless, and they're right. So we can do this the easy way, or the hard way. Your choice, Undress and get in the bath".

Lucius had a nice, warm, bubble bath waiting. He waited.

"OK, the hard way", he said as he hit her with the Body Binding and Silencing spells.

He tore off the filthy clothes, made a pile, and burned them to ash with a Confringo. Next, into the bath water for a good scrubbing. He had to change the water twice before he got her clean enough to stand to be around her. He conjured a tea towel to make her a poncho.

"Next, you're going to sleep it off, sober up and we'll have a nice conversation about your x-boss".

Lucius settled in for a long night. Winky was up early. Lucius popped off the top of a bottle of butterbeer and handed it to her. She took it with shaky hands and gulped it down.

"More please", she requested.

"Just a little hair o' the dog that bitcha, no more", he said as he was setting up. "You're gonna be in for a rough couple of days. I hope you realize how futile it is to drown your sorrows: the damn things can swim.

"Do you know what this is?", he indicated what looked like old fashioned rabbit ears he'd unpacked and placed on the desk top.

"Will you please be letting Winky go?", she pleaded.

"As soon as we clear up a few things. This is a Secrecy Sensor, he explained, "it will tell me if you're lying or being less than honest with me. Tell me about Barty Crouch and the secrets you said you were keeping".

"You nosin'! Just like Big Hair Bushy Head! Winky is _good_ elf. Winky _not_ betray Master's secrets!"

"Barty Crouch isn't your master anymore. You have no obligations to him after he broke your binding enchantment. You owe him nothing".

"Master trusted Winky with his secrets. Winky promised to never tell, and I is not saying nothin' to you or anyone else!"

"Did you know that no one has seen your Master since November? That he hasn't been to any of the Triwizard events he, himself, made possible? Did you know that no one from the Ministry, not even that suck-up assistant of his, Percy Weasley, has bothered to check up on him? I dropped by the house you and he lived in and it doesn't look like anyone's been there in three months? Did you know that, Winky?"

"Poor Master! No Winky to take care of him. Master is needing his Winky..."

"I need to know what he's been hiding from everyone. You know..."

"You is nosin! I keep Master's secrets!"

"Then you aren't a good elf at all. In fact, you're a bad elf, a _very_ bad elf".

"I is _good_ elf!"

"We don't know whether or not he's alive or dead. He's in some serious trouble, and you can help us help him. If you were a good elf, you'd want that. Perhaps you don't care? You want to see him harmed for giving you the boot?"

"NO! Winky would _never..._ "

"You say you're a good elf. THEN ACT LIKE IT AND TELL ME WHAT YOU KNOW!"

She sat there, balling up the hem of her poncho in her fists.

"Master… master… is in big trouble… He done something very bad and say Winky must never tell..."

"Go on, what did he do?"

"It was his missus… When the call came that young Barty was dying in Azkaban, she begged Master to let her trade places because she didn't have long to live. That's what he done, used Polyjuice to make her look like young Barty, and Barty to look like her. She stayed behind. He made young Barty wear an invisibility cloak all the time, and he put Winky in charge of taking care of him. That's what I did, helped him regain his health".

"Extraordinary, I'd never suspect he'd do something like that", Lucius said. "Doesn't fit his reputation, or the one he cultivated. Go on".

"He used the Imperious to make sure he behaved, and for a good while it worked. Young Barty stayed in the house, and kept quiet when there were visitors, so no one knew nothing. Then that Ministry bitch came nosin around. Said she had something for Master to look at, and she heard Winky talking to young Barty in the kitchen. She came nosin, but didn't see no one but Winky there".

"That would be Berta Jorkins?"

"That's what Master say. He used some memory magick on her so's she wouldn't remember what she seen. He said she wasn't quite right in the head after that, but she couldn't remember to tell".

"That would explain why he wasn't so eager to find her after her disappearance. They might find the memory modifications. Go on".

"It not right, that young Barty be inside all the time, no different from Azkaban. Winky knew young Barty loved Quiddich, and so when the World Cup came, Winky begged Master to let him go. He could stay under the cloak, and no one would notice, and young Barty could be out, watch the game. Master sent Winky to the Top Box to hold a seat for him, say it was for Master".

"He agreed to this? To take that chance even when all the Ministry officials were there?"

"Winky can be persuasive, and it's what his Missus would've wanted. We didn't count on the bad wizards. Young Barty was breaking the Imperious, and tried to flee. Winky used elf magic to bind him to me, but he was too strong. He stole a wand and conjured the Dark Mark. Then we was hit by Stunners, and the binding failed. They found me with the wand young Barty used to conjure the Dark Mark, but they didn't sees him under the cloak. Winky failed Master..."

Her eyes were tearing up.

"That's why… that's why… he give Winky clothes and say he doesn't need his Winky no more..."

All Lucius could do was hug her and let her cry it out. It was amazing that the Inspector Javert of dark magi would aid the escape from Azkaban of Barty Jr. The hard-ass still had some fillial love left after all. Or was it guilt over how the career obsessed Minister wannabe neglected his own family?

"One more thing, how did Barty Jr. strike you?", he asked when Winky recovered s measure of composure.

"How… how… do you mean?"

"Did he talk? Did he ever talk about his case? He ever mention Whatshisname?"

"Not at first, but later, when he began to defy Master's Imperious… He said he wanted to go look for him. He bragged about being his most faithful servant. He said any Death Eater that wasn't in Azkaban was a traitor".

"Did he do it? Take part in the attack on the Longbottoms?"

"He never said".

"Thank you, Winky, you did the right thing".

"Will this help Master?"

"I don't know, and I can't promise, but there's a chance it will. There's just one last thing before you go", Lucius said. "Stupify", he stunned her for a memory wipe.

"Tippy!", Lucius called out, and the elf promptly appeared.

"Don't worry, she is unharmed and will recover on her own. Would you see Winky back to the kitchen? I'd also appreciate it if you told Dumbledipshit what's been going on with Winky. He needs to have a long talk with her to make her understand Barty Crouch isn't her master, and she's not going back to him, and that she should take advantage of this opportunity to get a new life. And no more butterbeer. Go easy on her for a couple of days, until she's over the withdrawal".

"Yes, Mas… Lucius".

"What do you remember about Barty Jr.?", Lucius asked of Sirius when he got back to the cave. "When you were in Azkaban together?"

"As I said before, we were in the same cellblock, and I watched him being brought to his cell. He looked young, almost too young to be in Max, and sickly: pale, painfully thin. Before the day was out, he was crying for his mother. Why do you ask?"

"He doesn't strike you like the hardened criminal type?"

"Certainly not! Anything but that".

"Could he have been faking it?"

"I don't see how, or even why he would. He wasn't getting any special treatment, I can tell you that. Old Barty could have seen him sent to a juvenile lock-up, or minimum security at the fortress, He didn't. That crowd was distinctly lacking in any sort of empathy".

"How did he get along with the other Death Eaters?"

"He didn't".

"Could his being in there have hardened him?"

"Hell, I don't know. I didn't see him again after his arrival, but I could hear him, his incessant crying for the first couple of days, then nothing. Just the usual screams in the night".

"When his parents came to visit..."

"Why are you asking?"

"I have received some new information from Crouch's house elf. It would seem the tales of young Barty's demise have been greatly exaggerated".

"You mean… he's _alive_!"

"Very much so".

"All I recall is that their last visit was a death bed courtesy. Mrs. Crouch wasn't looking too well herself. She looked pretty much the same as they were leaving. I thought nothing more of it besides feeling sorry for her, losing her son like that".

"It would seem that our straight arrow candidate for Minister and the famous chaser of dark magi was not what he seemed. Mrs. Crouch was dying herself, and Barty Sr. arranged for her to take her son's place with the help of Polyjuice. He kept his son concealed in the house under invisibility cloaks, controlled by the Imperious. Winky tells me that he spoke of seeking Voldemort, bragging about how he was his most loyal servant because he risked Azkaban and his father's imprisonment.

"This doesn't square with the Mama's boy you just described. It was his attempts to break his father's Imperius, to return to his Dark Lord, that got Winky sacked. Everyone thought it was because she associated his good name with the Dark Mark, but it wasn't. She failed to keep young Barty under control".

"I don't know what to tell you. I honestly thought he'd gotten himself involved in a situation by accident or happenstance. Like being in the wrong place at the wrong time, everybody did".

"So if Barty's son is still alive, that could explain Barty's Sr's sudden disappearance: he's done a runner to protect his son".

"Maybe, I hope that's all there is to it, but now we have a completely unknown variable added to the equation".

"Then what do we do? Tell Dumbledore? Moody? Harry also needs to know".

"I agree, we owl them what we learned. It probably won't do any good without Amelia, but Pius Thicknesse needs to know as well. Then we best be getting back to Owlery Holt".

"Not before Harry sends more Hogwarts goodies, I hope".

"I can see my way clear for that".

 _Hogwarts: Dumbledore's Office_

"What do you make of this?", Dumbledore asked Mad Eye after showing him the letter the morning owls brought to the staff table.

"Got my own copy", he explained. "I never figured… Barty Crouch sure had everyone fooled, the two-faced bastard. I'm beginning to wonder if we're not barking up the wrong tree?"

"How do you mean?"

"What if Hogwarts and the Triwizard Tournament isn't the target, but a diversion? If Crouch and his son are working to aid the Dark Lord's return, it would make sense to get us believing there is a plot against Potter while the real business is going on elsewhere. Or that these letters are the diversion to send us chasing after wild geese".

"We don't know that he is involved. Barty is, after all, as human as the next guy, and as the saying goes, blood is thicker than water. What concerns me is how was this discovered?"

"I'm still trying to work that out, who would know in the first place?"

"One possibility: Barty's house elf showed up here at Hogwarts just before the Christmas break. However, she hasn't been very co-operative, I'm afraid. She hasn't shown any interest in engaging in work".

 **0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF**

 _Care of Magical Creatures_

As soon as Hagrid brought out a large box, everyone became distinctly anxious. The last time he did this, he announced that the class project was raising Blast Ended Skrewts. He had dug up a plot of earth near the cabin, and most assumed he was getting ready for the spring planting of a new garden.

"Gather roun", he announced. "T'day's lessin is on nifflers. I figgured this would be a fun lessin. I have a niffler for everyone, so take your pick".

The nifflers were gray, furry animals that looked a lot like common moles: the same powerful front legs with spade-shaped paws ideal for digging and burrowing, the same undersized eyes, and pointy noses. They looked to be bright and alert, all eyes and noses, examining these strange critters.

"Ye commonly find nifflers in mines as dey like innyting shiny".

Pansy saw that, as her niffler was taking quite the interest in her watch.

"Ye might wanna take off inny jewelry", Hagrid said.

"Dere's boud a hunnerd gold coins buried here", he indicated the freshly turned earth, "Let 'em loose an we sees which one brings back the most gold. Ah have a special prize fer the mos' coins. Everbuddy ready? Let 'em go!"

The nifflers headed into the patch, diving underground as easily as aquatic animals dived in water. The nifflers moved with unexpected speed, some porpoising above, then below ground. Soon, the nifflers brought back gold coins, dropping them in front of each student who released it, as they returned with the coins in their mouths. Soon, everyone was cheering on their nifflers. Within minutes, it looked like the nifflers found all the gold.

"Count your coins, less see who got the most. Doan be pocketin none of dem coins: is's leprechaun gold, an it vanish beferr the day's out".

Ron and Greg Goyle emptied their pockets. Hagrid inspected the counting.

"Looks like Ron's niffler won thuh contess", Hagrid announced.

Hagrid handed him a large piece of chocolate from Honeyduke's.

"Where do you get nifflers?", Ron asked.

"Yer mum wouldn'a like dat", Hagrid explained. "Dey doan make good pets, an' dey wreck houses. Be gittin interr mos' inniwares, drawers, cupboards, desks, book shelves. Dey kin wreck a home in no time.

"Sides ter neighbors woan 'preciate yer niffler's swiping dere stuff. Persistant lil devils, dey are".

Harry thought they sounded a lot like otters and ferrets in that regard.

"Do prospectors use them?", Hermione asked.

"Ain innyone been able to dermesticate 'em, so's dey not like truffle pigs, fer instance. Sometimes, prospectors see what dey have in dere dens. Thah'll give 'em idears as to what's close: gold, coloured stones, an so forth", Hagrid explained.

"I still wish I had a niffler", Ron said. "I hate being poor, f'kin leprechaun gold". He thought he'd struck it rich during the World Cup when the leprechauns dropped gold coins on the audience.

Today's lesson was typical Hagrid: long on the fun of a contest, but way short on details such as what nifflers eat, how long they live, how they are able to find gold underground. How they use their senses.

There was no news concerning the Crouch's. Finally, the Ministry was taking seriously the cases of their missing officials. Percy was brought in for interviewing, and received a reprimand for not alerting the DMLE about Barty Crouch, or for trying to see if he was at home.

 **0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF**

With the upcoming Easter break, came the mid-terms that had everyone on edge with pre-exam studies in addition to the latest homework and class study. It was after Transfiguration that McGonagall handed Harry an excuse slip that said his presence was requested down by the Quiddich pitch at 8:00 that evening. Too bad it didn't get him out of any classes.

"Hell'd they do to the Quiddich pitch?", Cedric greeted Harry's arrival. The stands were gone; the whole field criss-crossed with low, green walls.

"They're hedges", Harry said. "Been lots of rumours going around. The other day, Fleur was saying the next task involved going underground. Wouldn't mind that, I could borrow one of Hagrid's nifflers".

"Right-o!", Ludo Bagman greeted all the assembling Champions. "Don't worry, Mr. Diggory, you will have your Quiddich pitch back, good as new, after the final task".

He'd overheard.

"Give it a month and Hagrid'll have 'em twenty feet tall", Bagman continued his explanation. "Does anyone have an idea as to what we're building here?", he asked.

"Maze", Viktor said.

"That's right, it's a maze. The final task is straight forward. The Triwizard Cup will be placed in the center of this hedge maze. The first one who finds it and takes it, wins. As for the previous tasks, you've been working for your position to enter the maze. Everyone will, however, have a fair chance to get to the Cup first. Harry will go first, then Viktor, Cedric, and Fleur. There will be a number of entrances, and you'll get to choose. How you choose will have a lot to do with how difficult the passage will be".

"So that's all we have to do? Get through the maze?", Cedric asked.

"Of course, there will be obstacles: spells and enchantments to overcome, and Hagrid is providing some creatures as well. There's a bit more involved than just working out the maze itself".

"Of course", Harry said.

"Don't suppose you'd give us a leetle 'int?", Fleur asked.

"No, sorry, I can't do that. It would spoil the surprise", Ludo said. "Right-o, then, until next month".

"Zat's eet?", Fleur asked.

"You were expecting more?", Ludo asked her.

"You could 'ave owled us eef zat's all you 'ave to tell us".

"May I 'ave a vord?", Viktor asked Harry after Bagman dismissed them. "Vill you valk vith me?"

"Sure, what's on your mind?", Harry asked. Viktor wasn't leading them towards the Durmstrang ship, but past the airlines, Hagrid's cabin, and into the forest.

"Why here?", Harry asked.

"The valls 'ave ears and eyes, an' Mr. Dumbledore doesn't seem able to keep out nosy reporters. 'Ere vee can 'ave privacy".

"Good point", Harry agreed.

Out of sight of the castle and the cabin, Krum got to his point: "Vhat is there between you and Hermi-own-ninny?"

"Well, we're friends. Have been since we first met on the Knight Bus to Diagon Alley to pick up school supplies. Not that we're boyfriend/girlfriend, we're friend friends… and classmates".

Harry thought the jealous boyfriend routine was amusing. Here the eighteen year old Quiddich pro was thinking that thirteen year old Harry was a possible rival and an equal.

"Den vhy does she talk about you all the time?"

"As I said, we're friends, and that's what friends do".

"Den you haff not… you never..."

"No, we haven't. I already have a girlfriend, Pansy, so you have nothing..."

They were interrupted by the sound of someone on the move, behind the trees. Harry pulled Viktor out of sight, motioning him to remain quiet. A rather disheveled man stumbled out of the woods. It took Harry a minute or two to recognize him.

"Mr. Crouch?", he asked, as he stepped forward..

"The Triwizard judge?", he asked. "Isn't he viff your Ministry?", Viktor asked.

"Yeah, but what's he doing here?"

The last two times he saw Barty Crouch he was wearing a pin striped suit with polished shoes, looking like a respectable muggle businessman at the World Cup. His hair neat, and his toothbrush mustache looking like he trimmed it with a micrometer, his hair parted as though by straight edge. Unlike most wizards, he knew how to dress muggle style without making a fool of himself, or standing out. He could wear muggle clothing with an ease that appeared natural. At the first task, he wore robes, but still kept his hair and mustache trimmed. Now it looked like he hadn't washed or trimmed his hair and mustache in weeks. He hadn't shaved in days, and that wasn't like the Barty Crouch Harry knew. His robes were dirty, and with rips and the knees worn out. There were cuts and scrapes on his face, arms, and his knees were bloody. He looked like he'd been on the move for days.

"Good job with the report on cauldron standards, Weasley", he was talking to thin air. "Have you gotten off those owls to Karkarov and Maxime to finalize their plans for the Tournament?"

"Mr. Crouch?", Harry asked again. "We've been so worried about you. Everyone has".

His eyes were popping and unfocused. He couldn't see straight, and was barely able to stand. He was still talking to the voices in his head, though his lips moved silently.

"Vot is drong vith him?", Viktor asked.

"No idea", Harry said to him.

"Mr. Crouch", Harry approached the confused man.

"Be careful", Krum called out.

Crouch seemed to notice Harry's presence for the first time: "Miss… I thought this was Hogwarts?", he asked, very confused.

"Potter, Harry Potter, Sir, and this is Hogwarts..."

Crouch grabbed Harry's lapels, sank to his knees, pulling Harry down with him: "Dumbledore… must… see… Dumbledore… Must warn..."

"If you let go, I'll take you to the Professor", he tried prying Crouch's hands from his jacket. He couldn't loosen Crouch's grip.

"I got away… Must warn… Dumbledore… Did a… foolish thing… a terrible thing… My son… Berta Jorkins: dead… My fault… All my fault". It appeared as though Crouch was struggling mightily just to get every word out.

"Look, if you let me go, I can take you to Dumbledore, or I can bring him here".

"...Voldemort… growing stronger… Not much time… Coming after me… Must warn Dumbledore..."

"How is Voldemort growing stronger? How do you know Berta's dead, and that he did it? Who's coming? If you just let me go, I'll get Dumbledore; you're safe here"

Crouch let Harry go, and was having another imaginary conversation.

"He's insane!", Krum observed. "Completely mad". Viktor was backing away, looking like he would run at any moment. Harry didn't need that.

"I'm going to be needing some help here", Harry reminded.

"I'll have a spot of tea before I get ready. My wife and son should be here soon, then we're going to the concert with Mr. and Mrs, Fudge…

"That's right, Barty Junior just earned twelve OWLs… Yes, we are proud of him… he has a great future ahead of him… I'll take care of dealing with the Andorran Minister of Magic myself"

"Stay here with him, and don't let him wander off, I'll get Dumbledore"

Harry side stepped as Crouch tried grabbing him again, sending Crouch to the ground.

"...Voldemort… getting stronger… coming back..."

"Just keep him here", Harry ordered as he headed for the castle. "Don't let him wander off. Not in his condition".

"Don't be too long", Krum called out.

Harry ran as fast as he could, to the gargoyle that guarded the spiral staircase.

"Lemon sorbet!", he tried the last password that worked. Nothing happened.

"Lemon drops… Sugar Quills… Chocolate Frogs… Drooble's Best Blowing Gum! ..."

The gargoyle stepped aside, but not because he guessed the right password. It was Snape's leaving the stairway.

"Pot-ter. What are you doing here?"

"Professor! I have to see Dumbledore. Mr Crouch from the Ministry is here. He's asking for Dumbledore..."

"What nonsense are you talking, Pot-ter? The Headmaster is busy, and you should be back with the rest of your school".

"You don't understand! It's Mr. Crouch! He's here! But there's something wrong with him, he's talking all sorts of nonsense..."

"Didn't you hear me, Pot-ter? Now be on your way".

"Professor! Mr, Crouch, needs our help..."

The gargoyle stepped aside again.

"Professor Dumbledore! Barty Crouch… in the woods..."

"Lead the way", Dumbledore said as he followed Harry, leaving Snape behind. He was afraid the Professor would ask questions, giving Snape more opportunity to delay him. He left the Potions Master standing beside the gargoyle, looking just as ugly.

"He's not making much sense", Harry explained, "says he did something foolish, said something about Voldemort's getting stronger. He said something was all his fault. Left him with Viktor Krum".

"Did he say anything else?"

"Mostly nonsense, like he believes his wife and son are still alive, a conversation from long ago. That Percy Weasley is here. Looks like he hasn't slept a wink in days".

There was no one in sight as Harry arrived: "This has to be the right place, right behind Hagrid's cabin… Viktor!", he called out. No answer.

"Lumos", Dumbledore lit his wand. He scanned around with the light until they spotted a pair of feet. They belonged to Krum, who was lying on the ground, flat on his back.

"What happened to him? Is he alright?"

"Looks like he's been stunned. Go get Hagrid, let him know Viktor's been stunned. We may have an intruder".

"Enervate", Dumbledore cast the reverse charm. Krum tried getting up" "Must warn..."

"Just lie still, help's on the way. You've been stunned. You'll be disoriented for a few moments".

Harry arrived with Hagrid and Fang. Hagrid had his crossbow.

"Rubius, I need you to go to the Durmstrang ship. Let High Master Karkarov know one of his students was attacked and stunned".

"Aye, Ah'll leave Fang with ye".

"Fang", he addressed the boarhound, "stay".

"It vass that crazy old man… hit me from behind", Krum said.

"We need Alistair, would you get him?", Dumbledore told Harry.

"That won't be necessary", came a slightly wheezing breathe. "Damn leg, I'd've been here sooner", Moody complained. "Snape said I'd find you out here".

"Viktor Krum was attacked, and Harry said Barty Crouch was here".

"Did he now?", Moody asked himself.

"Yes, but he looked like he was out of his mind", Harry explained. "Sometimes he was having imaginary conversations with Percy, talking about cauldron reports and asking about owl posts to Karkarov and Madam Maxime. He seemed to believe his wife and son were still alive. He also said something about Voldemort and getting stronger".

"I'll have a look around", Moody said, "he can't have gotten far", as he headed into the woods as he lighted his wand.

Hagrid was returning with Karkarov who was wearing his silver fur robes.

"Viktor! What has he done to you?!"

"It vass that old man...", Krum started to explain.

"What old man, Viktor?"

"Mr. Crouch, the judge from the Ministry. He vass here, acting all crazy..."

"Treachery!", Karkarov complained. "One of your own Ministry officials attacks my school's Champion to take him out of the running. Dumbledore! You and your Ministry sneak a second champion into the Tournament to disadvantage Durmstrang, and now I find you've attacked my student! All your sweet words about better international co-operation, better relationships, and setting aside old differences, and you just demonstrated how empty they were! I have a good mind to pull Durmstrang out right now, and I assure you: we won't be coming back. Here's what I think of you!", he said as he spat at Dumbledore's feet.

Hagrid grabbed him by his fur robes, slammed him into a tree. He held Karkarov, feet off the ground, with a hand around his throat.

"Apologize!", he demanded.

"Hagrid! No!", Dumbledore called out.

Hagrid let go, and Karkarov slid down the tree to sit on the ground.

Moody was coming back.

"Anything?", Dumbledore asked.

"If he was here, he isn't here now".

"He didn't look like he was in any condition to travel", Harry explained. "I don't see how he could get very far".

"That may be so, but sometimes you can't judge a man's real condition by appearance alone. Who knows what he could do? There's nothing more we can do here. It's in the Ministry's hands now", Moody explained.

"He seemed to be very concerned that he see the Professor. I find it hard to believe he would just take off".

"He vass totally insane, so who knows what he really vants. I don't think he ever knew", Viktor added.

"Would you see Harry back to the airliner", Dumbledore requested of Hagrid.

"And Harry, I want you to stay there for the night. There's nothing more that you can do to help Mr. Crouch. Understand?"

"Understood, Professor".

"Karkarov talkin' like thah ter thuh Perfesser. Dese damn ferriners", Hagrid was complaining, "can't trust a one uvum. Goin off with Krum, Harry! He could'a jinxed ye! Ah'll be glad when the whole lot uvem are gone".

"Krum's OK, he just wanted to ask me about Hermione in private. He knows about the portraits, and we have Rita Skeeter and her eavesdropping. He was right to be concerned with privacy. What about Madam Maxime?", Harry objected, "you seemed to be getting along at the Ball".

"Maxime! Doan be talkin ter me boud her! She been tryan ter get in me good books, but Ah got her number awlrye…

"Innyways, we're here. You do like thuh Perfesser says an doan be wand'rin". He waited until Harry climbed the airstair and closed the hatch behind him.

"Barty Crouch, here?", Hermione asked.

"He sure was, if only Snape hadn't delayed me, we could have gotten back in time. But, no, the greasy git just had to play childish games. He knew I urgently needed to see the Professor, but was determined to deny me what I needed the most.

"Percy said he wasn't feeling well, and he didn't look well at all. He was talking to people who weren't there, like Percy. Then he was reliving an old conversation about his son's OWLs and going to the concert with the Fudges. He seemed most lucid when talking about Voldemort".

"What did he say?"

"Said he was getting stronger. Dumbledore never got the chance to ask him about it. When I returned with the Professor, he was gone. Moody said he didn't see him, but how could he get away that quickly? How did he get the drop on Krum in his condition? He couldn't apparate, so portkey?"

"Or he's been kidnapped, got away to come here, but was caught again. He could have been flown away by broom...". She was giving him a reproving look, as she did when she knew he broke the rules.

"What?"

"What were you doing in the woods?"

"It was Viktor, said he wanted to talk without being overheard".

"You went with him? Just because he asked when you hardly know him? Harry!"

"What?"

"Whoever was out there, they could have attacked you!"

"If anyone was out there, assuming there was someone, they were right there, feet away, and I wasn't attacked. No one's tried attacking me all year".

"To make you complaisant and do something like what you just did, walk straight into a trap".

"I highly doubt that. If anyone wanted me dead, that would have been a perfect opportunity. Attack me and Viktor, make it look like we killed each other in a duel over a girl or something. Probably get away with it too, but that didn't happen. You're worrying over nothing".

"It's not 'nothing' (finger quotes) especially if it involves Whatshisname".

"OK, OK, I'll promise not to do it again".

He had another owl post to write for Hedwig to take to Owlery Holt in the morning.

 **0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF**

Today was Double Divination, and Harry wasn't looking forward to that at all. Trelawney was sure to predict his death yet again. Trelawney's classroom was illuminated only by the fire, as she insisted in drawing all the curtains. She burned way too much incense in the fire, making the whole room very stuffy and so over scented he knew he'd be smelling her incense all the rest of the day.

He made sure to grab a seat close to a window. When she wasn't looking, he opened the window. At least that might make it not so hot, and get some fresh air into the room. This time, Trelawney had something interesting to show them. A model of the solar system contained in a glass globe. All the planets and their moons in orbit about the sun, the motions of the planets adjustable.

He noticed some sort of bug that had landed on the window sill, briefly wondering how it got up so high. Did it ride an updraft? Trelawney was going on and on, about the relationship between Mars and Neptune, and what that meant in astrological terms. His eyelids were getting heavy…

Was it a dream, or something else? Harry saw that he was riding on an eagle owl, or was that just the point of view? He was skimming over a landscape of rolling hills, not the mountains as seen from Hogwarts. The owl gradually began its descent towards a house on a hill. The house looked as though it had been a magnificient manor, but that was a long time ago. The house was in a state of sad decay, most of the windows boarded up, slate tiles missing from the roof, the ivy long untrimmed. The owl headed for one of the broken windows, and flew down a long corridor, to a room at the end of the hall. The owl perched on the back of a wing chair. Now Harry's point of view was inside the room.

There was an enormous snake curled up by the fireplace. A small man groveled by the hearth.

"Wormtail", a high, cold voice was saying, "your screw-up nearly ruined everything. However, my faithful servant has been able to undo most of the damage. He assures me that our way to Potter is clear, that the Triwizard Tournament will go forward".

Then Harry recognized that the figure was, indeed, Wormtail.

"Master! That is good news".

"Perhaps you need another reminder to take your duties more seriously?"

"Master, please… I tried to stop him..."

"Try, Wormtail? I don't need try. I need results, I _demand_ results. Fortunately despite your latest fuck-up, he is confirmed dead. Sorry, Nagini, but I won't be feeding you Wormtail just yet".

The tip of a wand appeared around the back of the chair.

"Crucio!"

Wormtail writhed on the floor, screaming his head off. Harry felt in his scar, Cruciatus-level pain. He couldn't help but scream himself. Voldemort was certain to hear, to know he was standing right behind him.

"Let that be a reminder to treat your duties with more diligence in the future. It would pain me to have to feed you to Nagini..."

"Harry! Harry!", someone was calling his name. He looked around, but where was Wormtail? He was flat on his back, with Professor Trelawney, Hermione, Draco, and Neville looking down at him.

"You suddenly dropped to the floor", Trelawney explained, "clutching your scar with both hands. Don't you remember?"

He got to his feet: "I need to see Madam Pomphrey..."

"Don't go now!", Trelawney begged, "what was it? A vision, apparition, a premonition? You have been stimulated by the clairvoyance of my room. You've seen farther than you ever did before. If you leave now, you could miss the opportunity to farther than any student has seen before".

"The only thing I want to see is one of Pomphrey's headache potions".

"Harry?", Pansy asked.

"It's OK", he reassured.

Harry headed, not for the infirmary, but the owlery. He needed to send another letter to Owlery Holt. Hedwig wasn't back yet, so he sent one of the school's owls. Maybe Lucius would have some ideas? So far, neither Professor Dumbledore nor Alistair Moody were being forthcoming with news. He knew that Minister Fudge, himself, had come to Hogwarts. At least the Ministry was finally taking the matters of their officials, Barty Crouch and Berta Jorkins, seriously.

A few days after Harry's incident in Divination, Rita Skeeter struck again:

 _HARRY POTTER: DEEPLY DISTURBED AND POTENTIALLY DANGEROUS?_

 _It has come to the attention of this reporter that the Boy Who Lived has frequent episodes of collapse in his classes. Once again, we see that Albus Dumbledore has covered up for Mr. Potter, as he has failed to report said incidents to the Ministry or to the mind healers of St. Mungos._

 _The latest episode where Mr. Potter fainted was during Sybil Trelawney's divination class. It was said he suddenly dropped to the floor, clutching the scar he received the night Hewhomustnotbenamed murdered his parents. He was witnessed rolling around the floor, totally unresponsive, while crying out about how Hewhomustnotbenamed was torturing someone. When he finally revived, he seemed to have no recollection of what he said, insisting that it was "only a headache"._

" _There is the possibility", said an anonymous source at St. Mungos, "that the night he received his scar from a backfiring curse, that there was brain damage. It could also just be in his head, unconscious memories of that terrible night coming to the surface. I can't rule out another possibility: that he's faking this to seek attention, or that it's a cry for help. Of course, without an actual examination of the patient, I can draw no conclusions"._

 _There are also questions raised by Mr. Potter's being a fluent Parseltongue. The ability to speak to snakes has long been a hallmark of a dark wizard. An anonymous source inside the Ministry has confirmed that the former Directorix of the DMLE called on Potter specifically for this ability to open the Chamber of Secrets. As we all know, the most famous Parseltongue of our time is none other than the Dark Lord himself. Snakes and serpents have a long association with evil and black magick._

 _One would think that Harry Potter, having been illegally entered into the Triwizard Tournament, would have more than enough attention to satisfy him? Is this a case of Headmaster Dumbledore's ignoring a suffering student's desperate cries for help to further his own ambitions? Does it seem that Mr. Potter is in any condition to compete in the task coming in a few days? Is he planning on using black magick to win the Tournament? Could these spells be a prelude to more dangerous behaviours, behaviours Mr. Potter may not even be aware of, let alone able to control?_

 _This reporter leaves that to you to decide_

– _Rita Skeeter_

"How the _HELL_ did she find out about that?!", Harry asked Hermione. "She wasn't there!"

"She had to be. There's no other way she could have known. I was there, and she's describing everything in too much detail to have heard it second hand. Somehow she's getting by the wards, undetected".

"I opened a window, and there was some kind of bug buzzing around".

"At the top of the North Tower?!"

"Yeah, I thought it was just caught in an updraft".

"There's something I need to check out if we ever get a chance to visit the library".

 _Harry,_

 _The sudden reappearance of Barty Crouch and the just as sudden disappearance at Hogwarts is most disturbing indeed. It would seem he was being held against his will somewhere, likely the abandoned house on the hill you described from your vision. That he seemed so insane looks like the effects of memory modification, and/or fighting against the Imperious. It would explain why he was doing Ministry business via owl. Of course, we know what he wanted to confess to Dumbledore already. As for his claim that Voldemort is gaining strength, this is an all too real prospect that ties in with the disappearance of Crouch's subordinate: Berta Jorkins. Crouch's curious lack of curiosity over Berta's disappearance would be explained by his not wanting to reveal his aiding and abetting his son's escape from Azkaban._

 _We know she disappeared somewhere in central Albania, a known hiding place. If she came across Voldemort, or what's more likely, Wormtail, he could have done to her what he attempted to do to Ginny: steal her life force to rematerialize in some form more substantial than the wraith you saw at Hogwarts. That he didn't have a memory from which to rebuild his material form, it's likely he's still relatively weak._

 _As for how Barty Jr. fits in, I do not know. I wish you hadn't given up the Marauder's Map. If he does show up, you would know it. As for Moody, I hope he's been paying attention. I suggest you keep a low profile until the final task is complete. I know you want to win, I know how competitive you are, and would like to see Beaux Batons take down the prize. However, I remind you: survival is the whole point, even if that means letting one of the others win. I still have a deal with Tippy: he's on alert to apparate you from Hogwarts should something go wrong. Do not hesitate to call on him if you find yourself in a sticky situation._

 _Lucius_

 _PS: Sirius says to say thanks for the Hogwarts food._

The morning of the final task was a meet and greet for the famiilies.

"So Smeltings sprung ya?", Harry asked of Dudley.

"Father said it was a special occasion, it's not a prison, yannow".

"I'm sorely disappointed to see you here, Harry", Vernon was saying. "I'd hoped that we'd seen the last of Hogwarts. Wasn't that the whole point in enrolling you in Beaux Batons? As if that weren't bad enough, your being entered against your will in a Tournament you have no business even being in, and they _still_ let that man back in charge! It's outrageous!"

"How're you doing?", Petunia asked. "They treating you well?"

"Sure thing. It's not so bad, after all, I got through the two previous ordeals OK. I'm even point leader, so I might actually win this thing. Wouldn't that be something? Beaux Batons hasn't had a Triwizard winner in many a dog's ages".

"You keep your head down, you hear me?", Vernon reprimanded.

"Always, I always do", Harry agreed. "Just sayin', wouldn't it be great if I could do both, win, I mean?"

"I still don't like it. You shouldn't even be in this contest in the first place. How is it that this incompetent excuse for a Ministry can't even abide by its own rules?"

"That's what I've been asking myself ever since my name came out of the Goblet of Fire".

"Keep kickin'… you know what", Dudley said.

Viktor was talking with his parents in rapid fire Bulgarian. It was obvious where he got his hooked nose: inherited it from his father. Fleur and Gabrielle were discussing in French with their parents. Neither her mother nor father had her platinum blond, veela hair. That must've come exclusively from her veela grandmother.

Cedric's father broke away: "So, Harry, ready to lose to Cedric again?"

"Excuse me, Sir?"

"I'm talking about the Quiddich match, where Ced beat you to the Snitch. Denied Slytherin the Quiddich Cup".

"That was two years ago", Harry reminded, "I haven't been attending Hogwarts since".

"Damn shame, leaving Hogwarts for an inferior school. Cedric wouldn't go anywhere else..."

"Father!", Cedric reprimanded.

When it came to being socially inept, Mr. Diggory could give Ron a run for his money. Either that, or he was playing mind games, trying to rattle Harry before the task that evening.

"I'll do my best to win, and you're on alert Harry", Cedric said. "I don't think Harry will be a push-over. I'm sure he'll give me a run at that Cup. He did when we were playing for the Quiddich Cup".

Cedric led Fleur, Viktor, and their parents on a tour of Hogwarts. Vernon and Petunia, having attended orientation Harry's first year, went to the Beaux Batons airliner.

"So you arrived in this?", Dudley asked, "Coolies!"

"That's what makes Beaux Batons unique, they aren't afraid to modernize. We have everything muggle schools have, a computer lab..."

"With video games?"

"Yes, but Madam Maxime makes sure we don't waste all our time on them. When I'm fifteen, we'll have driving lessons, though the French drive on the wrong side of the road, so I'll have to remember that when I'm back home".

The interior wasn't like any airliner they'd been on.

"Seems much larger inside?", Dudley remarked.

"There are charms that can warp space", Harry explained. "That's how the Express always has enough seats, and the Ministry's limos are treated the same. It's how Arthur can get all the Weasleys into one Anglia".

Harry showed them the classrooms, explaining how they took classes in rotation between Beaux Batons, Durmstrang, and Hogwarts.

"The whole point of the Tournament is to get to know wizards from abroad".

"Just like foreign exchange", Dudley observed, "except you never have to leave home".

"Exactly", Harry agreed. "We can take our schools with us".


	35. The Third Task

**The Third Task**

The day of the third, and final, task meant a feast. Since the contest was scheduled to begin at dusk, the serving was early. Harry sat with the rest of the Dursleys at the Gryffindor table. They were joined by Pansy, to the disapproval of the Slytherin Death Eater wannabes.

"Where's your friend, Hermione?", Petunia asked.

"She couldn't make it", Harry didn't want to explain why, and hoped Ron would keep his big yap shut for once.

"Not feeling well?", Petunia asked.

"Something like that. She's staying in the airliner".

"Hope she's feeling better".

"How about you?", Vernon asked, "how're you doing?"

"I've been through two of these contests already, so it loses its anxiety factor. Seems pretty straight forward: run the maze, get the Cup, win. It's not like dodging dragons, or having to search the whole lake for your friends. Dumbledore assures that there's no real risk here, and during the last contest, the merpeople were looking out for us".

"I'm still not very happy, your being here, and I don't trust that old billy goat", Vernon shot a glance to the staff table where Dumbledore sat in his finest dress robes.

"Wasn't my idea..."

" _That's_ what I'm talking about", Vernon explained, "you shouldn't have been in this Tournament in the first place! If he'd done his damn job, there'd be _no_ reason for _us_ to worry".

"It isn't just Dumbledore, there's also the Ministry, and Cornelius Fudge'll be a judge for the finale. I don't see how anything can happen, right under the nose of the Minister himself".

"From everything you've told us about this Ministry, that doesn't reassure me. We enrolled you in Beaux Batons to get you away from this place, and all the incompetence and corruption. Yet here you are: right back at Hogwarts, back under the thumb of that irresponsible excuse of a Headmaster. I keep asking myself why I bothered. I keep asking when these magi are going to leave you be".

"Once I'm through with this last event, it'll be over..."

"Until the next time Dumbledore's incompetence or irresponsibility hurts another of your friends, like what happened to Ginny and Professor Hagrid. It shouldn't be left to _you_ to always be cleaning up _his_ messes".

"I believe Harry can do it", Pansy reassured.

"Miss Parkinson, it's not Harry's chances of winning I'm worried about so much, but the fact that these supposedly responsible adults leave it up to kid wizards to do their damn jobs for them. I don't know how much you know about the normie world, but things like that only happen in fiction – kids' stories where kids are always smarter than every responsible adult around them who save the world when the adults could not. Not in real life".

"Well, I don't really know all that much", Pansy confessed.

"And that's another thing, your inadequate preparation..."

"Vernon, Dear", Petunia headed his rant off, "I think you've made your point".

After the plates cleared, Dumbledore took to the owl shaped podium for a speech:

"To all the families, I offer you welcome to the third, and final, task of the revived Triwizard Tournament. For those of you who may not be aware, the Triwizard Tournament has a long tradition of fostering greater understanding of, and co-operation with, the magical communities of other countries. Hogwarts has the honour of hosting the revived games. The Tournament pits the best of three magical schools: Hogwarts, of course, the Beaux Batons Academy, and the Durmstrang Institute in contests of magical ability, ingenuity, and courage. In the future, it is my hope that more schools will participate.

"Regardless of who wins, we can be proud of all of our Champions. All have been selected from among their peers for their courage and magical ability. All have given their best efforts towards their ultimate victory. In the end, however, there can be only one victor. Who that is will be decided here, starting in a few moments.

"If our Champions would come forward..."

Dumbledore waited until Harry, Viktor, Fleur, and Cedric made their way up front.

"Mr, Bagman will lead the Champions to the third task for a briefing while our spectators will head for the stands. Mr. Weasley will lead the families to the family box. If you would..."

Dumbledore motioned the families forward. Percy Weasley led the families of the Champions to their special box.

Once the audience seats were filled, Ludo Bagman used the amplification charm to address the spectators.

"Welcome to the third and final task that will determine the winner of our revived Triwizard Tournament. All our Champions have spent the academic year preparing for this moment. Earlier today, the Triwizard Cup was placed in the center of this maze you see before you. The Cup is also a Portkey that will bring the winner straight back here to this stage. After his/her arrival, Cornelius Fudge, our Minister of Magic, will conduct the awards presentation.

"The standings are as follows: Harry Potter, Cedric Diggory, Viktor Krum, and Fleur Delacourt. I warn you: you will meet challenges along the way. If you find yourself in difficulty, just use your wand to send up a red flare, and one of our staff will come right away for you, should you opt out. Are we clear on the rules?", Bagman asked.

Harry and the others indicated they were ready.

"Very well, then, Mr. Potter, pick your entrance".

There were four entrances to this maze. He noticed Mad Eye Moody subtly pointing off to his left. Harry took that entrance. Why not? There was no indication that one way was better than another. Mad Eye did say that cheating was part of the tradition, and he'd never steered Harry wrong yet. If he sent him down the most difficult path, oh well… Still, Harry had been assured by all the officials that his chance of winning were as good as anyone else's.

As soon as he was inside, the hedges grew over the entrance, the sounds of the audience in the stands suddenly silenced. It was the last of the twilight, and the first stars were coming out. This made the maze look gloomy.

Harry had spent the previous month walking the outside perimeter; he observed from the owlery through the Omnioculars from the World Cup, so he knew he needed to be moving in a northwesterly direction.

"Point me", he cast the compass spell.

He moved forward, keeping as much to the north as the passages allowed. He wondered when the others would be coming in, how much of a lead he would have. He knew from owlery observations that it was an intricate maze, filled with dead ends intended to disorient. As the sky grew darker, so did the maze, as the ability to see ahead diminished greatly. "Lumos", he lit his wand. What he really wanted was a good, high intensity Mag-Lite. Inwardly, he cursed himself for not owling Vernon and Petunia to send him one.

Left, right, dead end, backtrack try another lane. Wash, rinse, repeat. To his chagrin, he found himself going down the same dead end passages twice. Still no sight or sound of the other champions. Were they having the same difficulty? He could only hope. So far, no signs of anything dangerous, and that, in itself, was unnerving.

Finally, a sign of life: Cedric appeared from an intersection he'd just passed.

"Damn Blast-Ended Skrewt", he complained about his scorched robe, "that fucker must've been twelve feet at least".

"So Hagrid didn't lose them all?", Harry asked.

"We were hopin'", he said.

That was Hagrid's project from last year: Care of Magical Creatures was all about raising these new creatures, but they kept fighting among themselves. It was a disaster Harry was happy to miss.

"You?", Cedric asked.

"So far, I haven't seen anything the least bit dangerous. How about Viktor and Fleur?"

"No sign of 'em", Cedric said. "Best be getting' on with it".

Cedric and Harry parted ways down different paths. Harry saw something at the edge of his wand light. Coming closer, he saw that it looked like a wall of mist. He wondered: was this a toxic cloud?

"Reducio!", he fired a spell into it to no effect at all. This spell only worked on solid objects.

There were two choices: back track to avoid it, but that would mean going off course, and he knew he was going too far to the east, or take a chance…

He took a deep breathe, held it, and stepped into the mist. At first, this seemed to be the key: don't breathe any of it. Then, the whole world turned upside down. The sky was below him, and the ground all that was above. It felt as if he'd drop into the sky forever if he tried to take a step. It was vertigo inducing, the whole world suddenly upside down. He closed his eyes against the vertigo, and went for it by taking a step. He didn't fall, and the spell broke, as the world was back to normal after he opened his eyes. He could breathe again once through this field of strange, vertigo mist. He looked back at the mist shimmering in the light of a rising moon. Otherwise, it wasn't a potion that had after effects. Back on course again. For once, he seemed to be making progress in the right direction.

He heard a scream: "Fleur!", he called out. He got no answer.

"FLEUR! YOU OK?!"

There was no answer, and no flare. He didn't know how to get to her, and it was hard telling the direction of the scream through the hedges, nor any way of knowing how long it would take to find the area. Did the lack of a flare mean Fleur was OK, perhaps just startled by something? He recalled the assurances of Dumbledore and the judges that nothing fatal would be allowed. He pressed onward. Down more paths, always trying to keep moving in a westerly direction to get back on course, through more dead ends. Then, finally, a long path that went in the right direction.

"Viktor! What in Merlin's name do you think you're doing?!", it was Cedric, and they were in the very next passage off to his left.

"Crucio!", Viktor cast the torture curse, and Cedric screamed.

"Reducio!", Harry fired at the hedge wall. He blasted away enough to make a small hole that he could just barely squeeze through while kicking aside branches.

Viktor saw him, and ran for it.

"Stupify!", Harry took him down, as the spell hit him in the back.

Cedric was still on the ground, and Harry helped him up. He was trembling from the effects of the curse that set every nerve ending on fire.

"I thought he was an OK guy", Cedric said.

"So did I", Harry agreed. "What happened?"

"He caught up to me from behind. I turned around and he had his wand on me, and he fired off that curse… He'll go to Azkaban for life, using an Unforgivable", Cedric announced the obvious. "How can anyone be that desperate to win?", he was leaning against the hedge wall for support. "What do we do with him now?"

"We could leave him here, but then the skrewts might eat him".

"He'd deserve it".

Harry picked up Viktor's wand and fired off a red flare: "They'll come and get him, and disqualify Durmstrang. Then the judges can get to the bottom of his behaviour".

"You think he got to Fleur too?", Cedric asked. "I heard her scream… back there".

"I don't know; I hope not".

"Thanks for your help, but I'm feeling better now…"

"...So we're opponents again?"

"You got that", he said as he took off down the path, and around a corner.

"Point me", Harry got himself reoriented.

That meant two Champions eliminated: it was up to Harry and Cedric, and the competitive urge returned: Harry knew he might just win this thing. From just trying to survive as Lucius and Sirius suggested from the very beginning to actually hoisting that Cup and 10,000 Galleons back at the arena. Wouldn't that show 'em the futility of making him an illegal entrant. Igor's rant would be epic and something else to look forward to. Down the next path, and Harry came face-to-face with the Blast-Ended Skrewt. Cedric wasn't exaggerating about its size.

"Stupify!", the spell glanced off its tough exoskeleton, and accomplished nothing more than to really piss it off. It was advancing, and that was at least a good thing in that its built in "rocket motor" was pointing the opposite way.

"Impedimentia!", this spell, too, bounced off harmlessly, and Harry ducked just in time to prevent spelling himself.

It was close enough to deploy its stinger like an over grown scorpion, snap with its jaws, or claw with its front feet. Harry backed away, tripped, while firing another Impedimentia. This time, he hit the less well protected underside, and that was enough to stop its advance. Harry got out of there, as the spell wouldn't last forever, and there was no telling how soon the skrewt would regain the use of its legs.

He headed back the way he came, and used the Compass Spell to find another path that both went in the right direction, and put as much hedge between him and a by now very pissed off skrewt. The growing darkness meant he was getting closer to the center of the maze, and its prize.

Down a long, straight path, his wand illuminated a wondrous sight. He'd only seen pictures in his _Monster Book of Monsters_ he had back when he was still attending Hogwarts. A real, live sphinx, just like the one in Egypt. The body of a lion, complete with a tail tuft, huge paws, the powerful build of a lion, but with the head of a woman. She wasn't crouching, so didn't look to be about to attack. All she was doing was patrolling, blocking passage any farther.

She ceased pacing, fixing him in her gaze: "You are very near that which you seek, and the fastest way to your objective is down this path", she announced.

"Kind of you to say so", Harry agreed, "so may I pass?", he asked.

"It won't be that easy", she informed him.

"No, I suppose it won't", he agreed.

"I will let you pass on one condition: you solve the riddle I'll give you. You have two choices: you can go back the way you came, or you can choose to solve my riddle. If you answer correctly on the first attempt, I will allow you to pass. If you choose not to answer, I will allow you to leave in peace. However, should you answer incorrectly, I attack you. Do you understand?"

"I got that", Harry told her.

"Fine, then what is your choice?"

"Can I hear the riddle?"

" _There's a man who lives a life of danger  
_ _To everyone he meets, he stays a stranger,  
_ _Next, tell me which is the first to mend,  
_ _The middle of the middle, or the end of the end?  
_ _Finally, give me the sound often heard,  
_ _During the search for a hard to find word  
_ _String them together, and riddle me this:  
_ _What animal would you not want to kiss"_

"What will you do?", she asked.

"OK, can you run that by me again, slower this time?", he asked.

"Of course", and she recited the lines again.

"OK, we have a secret agent", he was thinking out loud. Damned clever, he thought, using lyrics from a very old muggle song no wizard was likely to hear. Unless Johnny Rivers was played on the Wizarding Wireless Network, which he doubted. "A secret agent spies… he's a spy – wait! That's not my answer!"

"Go on", the sphinx said, giving no indication he was on the right track or not.

"Mending middles or ends? Incomprehensible bullshit… sound heard while trying to find a word? Ummmmm… or Errrrrr… – that's a sound", he said. He considered it: "Spy… errrrr…

"I got it! The animal I wouldn't want to kiss is a spider".

"Is that your final answer?", she asked.

"It is"

"You have answered correctly, so you may pass, and good luck in your quest. You are very near".

He had no reason to believe she was lying: "Thanks", he said as she stepped aside.

His wand was telling him he was definitely on course, and he trotted down the path to its end. He had a choice of going right or left.

"Point me", he checked again, and took the path leading to the right. Down the lane a short way, and around a corner, and there was something glowing brightly dead ahead. It took him a few seconds to recognize the Triwizard Cup, glowing as it sat on a plinth just about a hundred yards ahead. He was running now, when Cedric appeared out of an intersection just feet in front of him. Any closer, and Cedric would have bowled him over.

Harry's dress wasn't fit for running, but the hem was above his knees while Cedric's robe was almost to the ground, so he had that advantage. Cedric, on the other hand, was taller with a longer stride. Harry had to run in high heels, and cursed himself for not kicking them off. Now, it was too late.

Cedric, thinking about that prize, and that he was winning this for Hufflepuff and Hogwarts, that no one could call Hufflepuff the "House of Losers", drove him onward with the determination to get there first to claim the Cup.

Harry gave it his best, but wasn't able to catch the older, faster, Hufflepuff Seeker. He was almost within reach when Cedric grabbed a handle of the Cup and disappeared from the spot, back to the stage and declarations of his victory.

The contest over, the hedges moved aside, making a straight path back to the arena, and a second place finish. He was back, followed shortly by Fleur. He looked around, as perplexed as anyone in the audience, and especially the judges.

"Where's Cedric?", Harry asked Fleur.

"I 'ave no idea", she said. "I never saw 'im after entering zee maze".

"What happened back there?", Harry asked.

"Zomevun vas cheating. I vas stunned", she explained.

"Krum?", Harry asked.

"I didn't zee anyvun".

"He got the Cup", Harry explained, "so why isn't he here?"

The judges: Dumbledore, Madam Maxime, Igor Karkarov, Ludo Bagman, and Cornelius Fudge left the judges' stand with Percy Weasley, Dumbledore in the lead. Suddenly, Harry's head felt as though a jack hammer split his skull. He grabbed his head, and dropped.

"'Arry!", Fleur called out, "are you all right? Izz zere zomet'ing I can do?"

 **0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF**

Cedric looked around, this wasn't right. He wasn't at the arena. He wasn't anywhere near Hogwarts as the mountains he'd been seeing from the campus since his arrival as a Firstie were nowhere in sight. This was an old graveyard, and he was sure this wasn't Dufftown either. There was an ancient yew tree off to his right, and beyond that, a chapel. The old graveyard looked in some serious need of maintenance, as it was overgrown, and for so long, it looked like nature was well on its way to reclaiming it. He could barely make out the outline of a fine house on a distant hill off to his left.

Squinting through the darkness, he could barely make out a figure who was coming towards him between a line of graves. As the figure got closer, Cedric took out his wand. Whoever this was, was short. He was wearing a hooded cloak with the hood pulled up to conceal his face. It looked like he had something in his arms. The way he was carrying whatever it was looked like a baby, or perhaps it was just a bundle of rags. What it didn't look like was a bag filled with 10,000 Galleons.

"Oi!", Cedric called out, "I thought the ordeal was over after I claimed the Cup?", he said as he held up the Triwizard Cup. "There's more to this task?", he asked.

The figure said nothing as he came to within six feet. Cedric held his wand up, as he wasn't liking what he was seeing. Could this be another trick of the maze? Was he hallucinating this? He knew he wasn't. He knew something, somehow, had gone horribly wrong.

"Stupify!", the stranger dropped him before he could react.

"Master", Wormtail explained, "it… it's not... Potter. What shall I do now?"

"Fools and incompetents", Voldemort complained, "I am surrounded by fools and incompetents. We have no choice now, we've waited too long… we use him instead, and then I shall have a word with that servant who has failed me. Bring him".

Wormtail used the Levicorpus to take him to a monument in the shape of a tall marble angel that stood watch over a family plot. The angel's stony wings surrounded the inert Cedric.

"Ennervate", Wormtail reversed the Stupify.

"Hell's going on?!", he demanded. He struggled.

"The more you resist", Wormtail explained, "the tighter my angel's grip becomes"

Already, it felt as though ribs were on the verge of cracking.

"And you might be?", Wormtail asked.

"Cccccedric… Dddddiggory… What… in Merlin's name..."

"Well, Mr. Ccccccedric Dddddiggory", Wormtail said sarcastically, "you're taking Potter's place".

"Potter? Harry Potter? What's he got…"

"Silencio!", Wormtail shut him up.

Wormtail left his bundle on the ground, and he could see there was something moving inside. Wormtail disappeared from his line of sight, but he could hear the small man struggling with something heavy. He looked down to see a large serpent slithering beneath his feet. He watched as the last of its tail left his field of view.

Wormtail returned, pushing and pulling an iron cauldron that was big enough for a man to sit in, though not comfortably. It was much bigger than any cauldron Cedric ever used in Potions. He could hear some liquid sloshing around inside. Next, the small man conjured a grate, and levitated the cauldron and its contents. He started a roaring fire beneath the cauldron. Cedric hoped that the conflagration would draw attention.

Whatever was in the cauldron looked to heat up unnaturally fast. That much water would take at least an hour or more to begin bubbling. Whatever was in the bundle was stirring more vigorously. He could see the surface roiling with the first bubbles. It then began to give off sparks, like it was on fire.

A cold, high pitched voice like a child's called from the bundle: "Hurry!"

"It's almost ready", Wormtail announced. He kept the fire going. Steam began to rise, obscuring Wormtail from Cedric's view. No way was this just water, he decided. The whole surface was now covered in sparkles, like floating diamonds.

"It is ready, Master", Wormtail advised.

"Do it now", the unseen voice said.

Wormtail unwrapped the bundle to reveal what was lying there. If Cedric could scream, he would have. It was like overturning a rock to reveal something nasty, slimy, horrible, but orders of magnitudes worse. It was in the shape of a crouched child, but no child could possibly look like this thing. It looked like a severe burn victim who'd lost a nose. Nothing but slits. The eyes red, looking like they glowed with their own light. The arms and legs stick-thin and feeble. It looked nearly helpless.

As Wormtail bent down to pick this creature up, it wrapped its thin arms around his neck. His hood fell back, but he was unable to completely conceal the look of disgust as he carried the thing to the rim of the cauldron. As he set the creature into the sparkling liquid, there was a hiss, and it disappeared under the surface of the boiling liquid.

"Let it drown", Cedric thought to himself. "Whatever this is, let it fail, let it die"

Wormtail was making preparation, as he tightly wound a cord around his right wrist. After he did this, he pointed his wand (he was a south paw) at the marble crypt beneath Cedric's feet.

"Diffindo!", he fired, cracking the marble slab. He levitated what looked like a femur from the grave he'd desecrated.

"Bone of the father, unknowingly given, you shall renew your son".

Wormtail looked frightened beyond his wits, as he dropped the bone into the cauldron. The cauldron hissed, threw sparks in every direction, as the contents turned icy-blue.

Wormtail was whimpering as he took a long, silver dagger from inside his robes. He laid his right hand on a chopping block he'd conjured.

"Surely he wouldn't…", Cedric thought, "he… couldn't".

He did. Wormtail cut off his right hand, dropped to the ground screaming…

"Let someone hear, let someone notify even the muggle police", he thought.

Wormtail forced himself to his feet: "Flesh… of the servant… wwwwillingly given, you shall renew your master", as he dropped his severed hand into the "broth", which responded by turning a bright, burning red. It sparked even more vigorously than before.

Wormtail was advancing on Cedric, who could do nothing about it, that dagger in his remaining hand. He slashed open the sleeve of Cedric's robe, then made a cut in his arm that bled profusely. He dropped the knife, rummaged in a pocket for a glass phial. He let the blood fill it before staggering back to the cauldron.

"Blood of the enemy, taken forcefully, you shall resurrect your foe", as he poured in the blood. The liquid instantly turned a blinding white that turned the immediate area from night into day. Wormtail, his job done, dropped to his knees and flopped onto his side, gasping and sobbing. The cauldron sent its diamond sparks in all directions.

It didn't look like anything was happening: "Let it have gone wrong", Cedric thought, "let it be dead".

Suddenly, a thick plume of steam rose from the cauldron. So thick it obliterated the sight of anything else, the cauldron, Wormtail, the surrounding country side.

"It's gone wrong", Cedric thought. "It's dead, it's drowned by now… please… please let it be dead…"

The steam plume settled down, and there was a figure emerging from the cauldron, tall and slender, the figure of a man.

"Robe me", he ordered in that high, cold voice. Wormtail struggled to his feet, took up the robe he'd been carrying, and, one-handed, placed it over the head of his Master who stepped from the cauldron while adjusting his robe. He looked Cedric in the eye, his face snake-like with those red, reptilian eyes, slits for nostrils. The apparition from his father's nightmares: Lord Voldemort was finally back.

Voldemort then turned his nose to the sky, inhaling deeply, filling the lungs he hadn't had for over a decade with air while savoring the night scents. He ran his hands with long, thin fingers over his body and face, as if he could hardly believe it himself. He held a hand before his eyes, his expression exultant. Then he reached into his robe and took out his wand from an inside pocket. He caressed it gently, then pointed it at Wormtail, who was still twitching and whimpering as he held his mutilated arm. He levitated Wormtail against a head stone next to where Cedric was being held. He slid down the stone to a sitting position.

"My Lord, please", Wormtail was saying, "you… promised… you did promise…"

"Hold out your arm", Voldemort requested.

"Thank you, Master… thank you so much…", as he held out the stump. Voldemort laughed at him, but it was a mirthless laugh.

"Not that arm, Wormtail, your other arm", Voldemort said, to the look of utter confusion on Wormtail's face. He did so, offering his left arm.

Voldemort rolled up the sleeve of his robe to reveal what looked like a vivid red tattoo: the Dark Mark, the same one Cedric saw in the sky above the World Cup. He examined the Mark closely.

"Master… please", Wormtail begged, "please..."

"Very good", he said, "excellent. They should all have felt it by now", he said as he pressed a finger to the red "tattoo".

Wormtail screamed again in agony. As Voldemort took his finger away, the Mark turned jet black.

"Now we shall see", he said, "how many will be brave enough to return, and how many will be foolish enough to stay away".

Voldemort looked up to the sky; he looked all around the graveyard.

Turning his attention to Cedric: "Mr. Diggory, you are above the grave of my late father, the muggle son of a bitch that betrayed my mother, and couldn't bother to be a father to his son. It was I who sent him here long ago, and see how useful he's proved himself to be in death, much moreso than he ever did in life".

Voldemort said it in perfect self-justification.

"You noticed that house on the hill?"

He pointed in the direction of the house on the hill.

"My father lived there with his muggle parents. He fell in love with a magician who lived on the out skirts of the village. She, of a pure blood family, but a family which lost its fortune centuries ago, and poorer than the lowliest church mice. He was her ticket to a better life, he, the scion of the wealthiest family in the whole area, fell in love with the beautiful but impoverished Merope Gaunt. He abandoned her once he learned who she really was, what she was… He didn't approve of magick, my father. It didn't matter to him that she was carrying his child. He left before I was born, and let Mother die, and me to be raised in a muggle orphanage. The fool who gave me my name: Tom Riddle…

"Listen to me carrying on… I've become quite sentimental in my old age… But look!", he exclaimed, "My true family arrives now!"

He swept an arm before him. From between graves, from behind the yew tree, from every shadowy space, wizards were apparating. They all wore the same black robes and silver masks. They approached slowly, cautiously, as though they couldn't believe they were here, what they were seeing. One dropped to his knees, and approached the standing figure, like those pious Catholics approaching a high prelate. This kneeling figure kissed the hem of Voldemort's robe:

"Master… master…", he said.

The others followed his lead, all on their knees, all kissing Voldemort's robe. They backed away, on their knees before standing to form a large circle around their Master, and Cedric. There were gaps in the circle, as though they were waiting for more arrivals, yet Voldemort didn't seem to think anyone else was coming.

"My Dear friends, my Death Eaters", he began his speech in a pleasant tone that paradoxically sent shivers through the assembly. "How long has it been since last we met, and yet you come as though it were yesterday. Yet it wasn't yesterday, now was it?"

Voldemort stepped over to one of his followers to rip off his mask. He dropped dead on the spot, burning to ash.

"It's been twelve. Long. Years", he said as he killed two more of his followers. "I see you standing here, all of you fit and with all your powers. Maybe some of you are a bit grayer, maybe with that middle age spread, all of you have grown in your powers, have you not? Yet, none of you ever thought to come to the aid of your Lord and Master when he needed you the most…"

One broke ranks to fall at Voldemort's feet: "Forgive me, Master, forgive the weakness of my faith…"

He took out his wand: "Crucio!", he sent the Death Eater into paroxysms of torment.

"Avery, Lord Voldemort does not forgive, nor does he forget. _You_ want forgiveness? Well _I_ want _twelve_ years from you before I will consider forgiving you. Oh, and Wormtail? Wipe that self satisfied smirk off your face before I do it for you. You did not act out of love or loyalty, but fear. You deserve this pain and suffering, don't you, Wormtail?"

"Yyyyyyesssss Massssss-terrrrr".

"It's good that you understand that you do deserve it. However, you, alone, helped me when no one else would. Lord Voldemort helps those who help him".

Voldemort raised his wand again, and something looking very much like mercury poured out. It formed into the shape of a hand that attached itself to Wormtail's right wrist. The binding around his wrist fell away, the agony gone. Wormtail looked in wonder at his prosthetic silver hand. He worked the fingers which responded as would the hand he cut off.

"Master!", he said in wonder, "it's… _beautiful_. Thank you so much, My Lord".

"You are quite welcome, Wormtail; do not allow your loyalty to waver again".

"I shall not", he promised.

"You see", Voldemort carried on, "that Lord Voldemort is not lacking in mercy. Though not all are so willing. Look around you: some of us are missing".

Voldemort walked around inside the circle, pointing out a gap: "Here we have space reserved for two Death Eaters who have fallen in my cause. They shall long be remembered with honour".

He pointed out another gap: "Here should be the Lestranges, but they can not be with us as they are languishing in Azkaban. Not for long, though, not for too much longer. The dementors will come over to our side, and when they are freed, they shall receive rewards beyond their wildest dreams, as Death Eaters who remained loyal and accepted the consequences of refusing to deny me. Unlike those who were too afraid to brave Azkaban".

Next, he pointed to an especially large gap: "Here we have more Death Eaters who can't be with us as they were executed by that Amelia Bones. She shall be dealt with in my own good time".

Yet another gap: "Here we have three Death Eaters who received my call, and failed to answer. If they are merely tardy, they shall be reminded of the emphasis Lord Voldemort places on punctuality. If they have fled, they will be killed, of course.

"I ask myself how it is that my loyal followers failed me so? How is it that all of them returned to their lives, some pleading bewitchment, some denying me in the face of the authorities. Did you not swear an oath of allegiance? While I was still with you twelve long years ago, did you not witness extraordinary magick? Did you not believe me when I pointed out that I, Lord Voldemort, had gone beyond every other wizard in the Dark Arts to vanquish death once and for all? Did you think it an empty brag?

"Then I wonder if the answer to these questions is 'Yes' (finger quotes) Or, perhaps, you believed there was another: another with greater powers still. Of course, I refer to that meddling, mudblood-loving, foreigner-loving, muggle-loving fool: Albus Dumbldore and his faithful sidekick, Harry Potter. The same Harry Potter who, through a stroke of extraordinary good luck, managed to vanquish me. It was through his mother's foolish self sacrifice, a bit of old magick that I unfortunately had forgotten. I should have killed the little bastard with my bare hands, but, alas, I did not, and the Killing Curse backfired. Agony on agony, as my body was thoroughly destroyed without a trace. Even I do not know exactly what I'd become. Something more than a ghost, or a mere spirit. I retreated to the forests of Albania to recover and regroup. I'd mentioned Albania to you before, and I thought my faithful servants would come looking for me. I waited in vain. Long years passed, and not a single one came. While I could posses people and animals, I dare not posses a person lest the aurors discover me. Possessing animals didn't allow me to do wand magick, and they never lived very long after being possessed.

"Then, finally, a miracle happened. A marginally talented wizard stumbled across my lair in the forest. He was a professor of Dumbledore's school on sabbatical. Weak of will, but head filled with his own overblown sense of importance, he easily bent to my will. It was he who brought me back to England where I possessed him before the start of another term. Albus Dumbledore brought into the school a Philosopher's Stone, which I sought for myself and reincarnation. The old fool thought his pathetic defenses would stop the greatest wizard in three centuries, even though I was greatly weakened, I defeated them with ease. I would have succeeded, but for the meddling of Potter, once again. He continues to elude me, but his luck is about to run out.

"I retreated to my lair in Albania. I figured when word of what happened at Hogwarts got out, it would finally prompt one of my followers into action. Once again, I waited in vain; once again, I was disappointed to see no one came. This was my darkest hour, depths of despair you can not imagine. It was then that a follower finally came, Wormtail. Though a life-long coward, and a strictly average wizard, still he came, and brought with him a Ministry official, one Berta Jorkins. Wormtail, being an animagus, has a special affinity for rats, don't you Wormtail? His furry friends informed him of a place deep in the woods where a shadow caused the deaths of many of their kind. This is how he found me.

"Wormtail should have known better than to be visiting inns in his human form where Ministry officials on holiday can see him and recognize him, especially when he's supposed to be dead. Fate was with Lord Voldemort on that day, as Wormtail convinced her to accompany him into my lair. It was there that Wormtail, under my instruction, was able to break a powerful Memory Charm, to reveal the secrets she was keeping. Secrets about the World Cup, and a revived Triwizard Tournament. She also had information about a most faithful servant who was also thought dead. Of course, in the process, her mind was permanently ruined. However this didn't end her usefulness to me, as we were able to take her life force to give me a very rudimentary body. At great risk to my health, Wormtail brought me back, once again. It was here that we made the plans for my return. However, my servant was as lacking in competence as he was in displaying enthusiasm for our cause. He failed me by failing to send me Potter. Instead, he sent a substitute. He shall be reminded of the importance of following my instructions to the letter".

Voldemort stepped up to Cedric: "Finite Incantatum"

"I well remember your father", he said, "a fanatic in his opposition, wasn't he? An enthusiasm for opposing dark magi which you inherited".

"Ummmm…", was the best Cedric could do.

"Is that all you have to say for yourself, Mr. Diggory? Maybe this will loosen your tongue? Crucio!"

Cedric screamed again, two Crucios in one day.

"Now, Mr. Diggory, tell us how you came to be here instead of Potter?"

"Iiiiiittttt… jjjjust… happened", he explained, still unsteady from the latest taste of the Torture Curse. "Hhhhharry put up a good effort… almost made it… I was… just faster… that's all".

"So that's what it came to? You were faster, as for my servant?"

"He… took out two champions. Tried to take me out, but Harry arrived, stopped him. We got through the maze OK, then it came down to a race for the Cup".

"Potter, again Potter, spoiling my plans: I shall deal with him in good time; I'll deal with you later".

"My Lord", someone called out, "we crave to know how you accomplished this miracle".

"Ahhhhh, but that's a secret. Let us just say it involved a potion made of unicorn blood and other special ingredients and a ritual of my own design. I have spent more time delving into the Dark Arts than any wizard in history. I have had long years of experimentation. That's all I have to say on the subject, and I strongly advise that none of you mentions it again. Is that clear?"

"Yes, Master", they intoned as one.

"Good, now let us deal with Mr Diggory", he turned to Cedric.

"Before you, you see the grave of my late father. It would be a pity to see it go to waste. Avada Kadavra!", he ended Cedric's life instantly.

Then he levitated the body into the grave and restored the marble crypt slab with the name: Thomas Riddle.

 **0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF**

Dumbledore was the first to get to Harry as he writhed in agony on the ground. As Dumbledore leaned over, Harry grabbed the lapels of his robes: "He's back… Dear Merlin, he's back…"

"What's he saying?", Vernon asked.

"Voldemort: he's back… I saw… I felt… his reincarnation… he's killed already, he's killed someone…"

Amos Diggory was also looking for answers: "What's going on, Dumbledore? Where's Cedric? Why hasn't he come back with the others?"

"Amos, I don't know", Dumbledore said.

"Nothing was supposed to go wrong! You, Bagman, and Crouch guaranteed _nothing_ would go wrong!"

Mad Eye Moody was a late arrival, given his wooden leg. He offered Harry a hand.

"Come with me, Mr. Potter. I'll need to talk with you…"

"Can't this wait?", Vernon complained.

"He's right…", Dumbledore started.

"No, it _can't_ wait", Mad Eye insisted. "I'll need to debrief Mr. Potter, _now,_ while his memories of this apparition, vision, dream – whatever you want to call it – are still fresh, before he begins to forget like the last time".

He fixed a stare at Amos Diggory: "It might help us find your son", he said.

"Just a goddamned minute here…", Vernon objected.

"Vernon, Dear, let the aurors do their job", Petunia advised. "They know what they're doing".

"They'd better", Vernon said.

"Come, Mr. Potter", Mad Eye said as he led Potter back towards the castle and his office.

"I'll need to know everything", he said as they went, Harry unsteady on his feet. "I have a potion that'll fix you right up".

"Shouldn't we see Madam Pomphrey?"

"Soon enough, but first I have to hear what you say before your memories fade. Help me and you might be helping your friend".

Moody closed and charmed the office door locked, though Harry didn't notice this. The office not changed since his last visit, all his dark detectors inert.

"Here, drink this", Moody offered a potion that burned like a slug of hot sauce.

"Better now?", he asked.

The potion did relieve the head ache, and steadied him greatly. His vision cleared, as did his head. Moody took his place behind his desk, and Potter a seat before him.

"Tell me what you saw", Moody asked. His electric blue cybernetic eye fixed on him.

"It was someplace… an old, overgrown graveyard. Wormtail was there, and Whatshisname came out of this cauldron. This time, he wasn't a wraith, he was whole, fully human".

"How did he appear?"

"Tall, thin, with a grotesquely distorted face, white as a skull, scaly-looking, with two slits instead of a nose, like it was cut off or burnt off, a lot like a burn victim. Red, reptilian eyes… so bright red like self illuminated. He did something that activated Wormtail's Dark Mark, then he said something about how many would be brave enough to come, and how many would be foolish enough to stay away".

"They came? The Death Eaters?"

"Yeah, esssss-loads of 'em".

"How did the Dark Lord greet them? Did he forgive them?"

Harry thought this a somewhat strange question. Why would Moody care whether he forgave Death Eaters or not?

"I… don't think so… he complained, and hit one with the Cruciatus for asking for forgiveness, but he didn't attack anyone else that I know of… I sensed he killed someone… I don't know who… some things aren't real clear. It was all mixed up, happy to be back, upset with his followers for not doing more to find him. Contempt and gratitude towards Wormtail…"

Harry hesitated to recall.

"Go on", Moody growled at him.

"There was something else, a servant inside Hogwarts… we have to let the Professor know!"

"That won't be necessary".

"Why not?"

"I already know who Voldemort's agent inside Hogwwarts is".

"You figure it out? Let him know already? Who is it, Karkarov? Snape? Someone else… Bagman, perhaps?"

"No, none of them. Karkarov took off as soon as he felt his Dark Mark burn".

"You didn't try to stop him?"

"Why should I? No, Harry, he wasn't the one. I know this because _I_ am that Death Eater insider…"

"You… Are you saying you betrayed everything you said you stood for… everything _you_ stood for?!"

From everything Harry knew of Mad Eye Moody, he was the least likely to have taken the Dark Mark. Did he turn that cynical after his retirement? Cynical enough to turn traitor to the Ministry he served so long and with such distinction – to betray his long friendship with the Professor? He'd heard all the rumours about how jinx-happy Moody was, how paranoid, how he was seeing conspiracies everywhere. Had the PTSD from the last wizarding war gotten to him?

"Everything I stood for is now and has always been the Dark Lord. The Dark Lord and I have very much in common, Harry. Both of us had very disappointing fathers, very disappointing. We both suffered the indignity of being named after our fathers. And both of us had the pleasure – the very great pleasure – of killing those disappointing fathers.

"You, not that Cedric, was the one who was supposed to go to the graveyard. You see, Dumbledore trusts Mad Eye Moody implicitly. He had no objections to my casting the Portus on the Cup to bring the first person who touched it back to the arena. As I was taking it into the maze, I redirected its charm to send the one who touched it to my Master. That should have been you, and I made sure to get the rest of the champions out of your way. I took out Miss Delacourt, and put Krum under the Imperious to take down Cedric. I have failed my Master, but there is one way that I may redeem myself".

Mad Eye came close, his face in Harry's, the cybernetic eye fixed on him, the normal eye bulging. He looked crazy. Could that be it? Somehow, Moody lost it?

"The Dark Lord has wanted you dead ever since the night he fell from power. You have interfered again, first by stopping his recovery of the Philosopher's Stone, then thwarting his efforts to revive himself with the life force of a first year student. Potter: you have interfered for the last time. Now, he is angry, very angry, and I shall be the one to claim your life. The Dark Lord will honour me above and beyond every other Death Eater".

Harry knew his only hope for survival was to keep him talking.

"What makes you think so? If you kill me, haven't you denied the Dark Lord his vengeance? How do you know that won't really piss him off even more than he is now? What can I give him that Cedric couldn't? Hasn't he returned anyway?"

"I don't know why he wanted you, and it's not my place to ask, or question his orders, but to do. As for Cedric, who knows what the Dark Lord will decide? As for you, Harry Potter, the Dark Lord has spoken…"

"What, exactly, did he say? Did he actually order any of his followers to take me out? Or does he prefer to do that himself, especially if I've been such a thorn in his side?"

"The Dark Lord will reward me as he rewarded no other Death Eater before me, once I give him your lifeless carcass".

"You're mad…"

"Mad, am I? We'll see who's mad when I am seated at the Dark Lord's right hand, closer to him than any son could ever hope to be as we ring in the New Dark Order..."

The office door was blown off its hinges. Harry hit the deck.

"Stupify!", three spells hit Moody at once. Dumbledore, McGonagall, and Snape had arrived. Dumbledore flipped the inert form onto his back with his foot. This time, there was no twinkle in his eyes, no grandfatherly expression. Every line of his face radiated fury.

"We should see Mr Potter to the infirmary", McGonagall suggested.

"No, Minerva, not just yet: Harry needs to hear this, as does a house elf named Winky, whom you will find in the kitchen, I think.

"Severus", he turned to address his Potions Master, "I will require the strongest Truth Potion you have available".

McGonagall and Snape left to carry out their respective assignments.

"Harry", Dumbledore asked, "are you well? He didn't harm you?"

"Not yet, he didn't, but you sure took your sweet time… Not much of a judge of character when it comes to hiring DADA profs, are you?", he asked sarcastically.

"Ah, but you see, Harry, this isn't Alistair Moody".

Dumbledore dragged the inert form across the floor to prop him up against the wall, beneath Moody's Foe Glass.

"I've known Mad Eye for longer than you have been alive, and the real Mad Eye Moody would never have led you away from us. We followed him to see what he was up to. As for the identity of our impostor, we shall find out soon enough".

Dumbledore went through "Moody's" pockets, confiscating his famous hip flask and the keys to his trunk.

After Snape's return, he handed over the flask. Snape poured out some slimy goop.

"Polyjuice", he confirmed.

"Then the real Mad Eye…", Dumbledore began.

"He would need hair", Snape confirmed. "I hope for his sake he kept him alive".

Dumbledore went to the trunk that had seven locks. Opening one revealed nothing more than a collection of books. He closed the trunk, trying a different key. The contents changed, this time, a collection of broken Sneak-o-scopes, quills, ink pots, and parchment rolls. There was also a silvery, conventional, invisibility cloak. He tried the third, fourth, fifth, sixth key, each revealing different contents. The seventh and final key revealed a deep pit. Dumbledore, despite his age, climbed in.

"Fetch me a blanket", he called out. "I've found the real Alistair Moody down here".

Snape went to look. Nearly unrecognizable without his trademark eye, was the real Mad Eye Moody. "Is he…", Snape started.

"He's alright, just put in stasis. It's chilly down here".

He wrapped the inert form of Mad Eye Moody, now without his wooden leg and cybernetic eye in the blanket.

"He will be fine here for now", Dumbledore explained as he climbed back out with Snape's help.

They waited, it wasn't all that long as the effects of Polyjuice last an hour or so. The scars on "Moody's" face began to fade. The gray hair turned straw, and grew shorter. The mangled nose began to revert to normal, and reduced in size. The wooden leg fell away with a clunk, as a real leg appeared. The cybernetic eye popped out of its leather band as a normal eye appeared in its place. Moody's cybernetic eye rolled across the floor, came to a stand still, but was whirling in every direction.

A much younger, much fairer, slightly freckled, man sat there.

"Who…", McGonagall started.

Harry immediately recognized Barty Crouch Jr from the memories he saw in Dumbledore's Pensieve.

"Barty Crouch… junior", Dumbledore explained.

"Do you have it?", he asked of his Potions Professor.

Snape handed over the same small phial with which he'd once threatened Harry. Dumbledore forced open Barty's mouth and placed three drops on his tongue.

"Ennervate", he cast the reverse spell.

Barty's eyes opened, but unfocused.

"Can you hear me?", Dumbledore asked gently.

"Yes, I hear you", he replied.

"Master Barty, what is you doing here?", Winky asked. "Why isn't you back home? Master must be worried _sick_ about you!" She looked on in wonder, large eyes growing even larger.

"That's something I'd like to know as well", Dumbledore said.

"Your friend Moody is getting old, sloppy, and slow… too long from the Auror Corps. Hell, even a little girl took him down, in front of his entire class. It was not a problem, sneaking onto the campus. Wormtail was all too willing to show me how. Three days ago, I got the drop on Moody, took him down. Under the Imperious, he was all too willing to tell me everything I needed to know to impersonate him. Then I locked him in his own trunk".

"You is a bad boy!", Winky reprimanded. "A very, very bad boy!"

"How did Harry's name find its way into the Goblet?"

"That was Ludo Bagman's doing. You see, Ludo has a weakness for gambling, and fancies himself a book maker, but with one defect: he can't help but get high off his own supply. It was no big deal for one of our agents to arrange for the Weasley twins who are money-hungry and make no secret of it to place a high risk bet with Bagman. All it took was a simple compulsion. As an added bonus, they shared their knowledge with their friends. Being the greedy SoB he is, and believing he had a sure thing, he gladly took their bets".

"More agents rigged the World Cup, Imperioused the Bulgarian Seeker to throw the game, to catch the Snitch while the team was too far behind to win. Bagman was broke, and in some serious debt to the goblins, and he would do anything to pay that off. That was one of his tasks: to see that Potter was entered into the Triwizard Tournament. Being that he is head of the Department of International Games and Sports, and that his department owns the Goblet of Fire, he knew exactly how to make it accept a fourth champion of Bagman's choosing. He was tasked to do everything to make Potter the winner. However, some unknown someones fucked up all our plans by paying off all of Bagman's debts. He was playing it straight from then on, refusing to give Potter any more help.

"That's why my Master asked me to come to Hogwarts, to impersonate the one person Dumbledore trusted above everyone else, including the Minister himself: his DADA professor, the retired auror, Alistair Moody. I patrolled around the outside of the maze, and with Moody's eye, I could see past the hedge rows, and I cursed obstacles out of Potter's way. I stunned Fleur, and put Viktor Krum under the Imperious so's he would take out Diggory. He would have done it, but for Potter's interference, once again. It was Potter who stunned Krum to prevent his completing his mission to clear the way for Potter".

"What was the purpose behind all of this?"

"My Master needed Potter, but there was no other way to get at him. The Tournament was our best chance. In order for the Triwizard Cup to function, the anti-portkey wards needed to be suspended. With no opposition, he would be sent directly to my Master for his part in the ritual of reincarnation. I don't know why it had to be Potter. My Master didn't say and I didn't ask".

"It didn't work out that way", Dumbledore pointed out.

"No, it didn't. Someone was fucking with our plans, someone who will come to regret that very much. My Master will find out, and punish them until they beg him for death".

"And Mr. Diggory: what became of him?"

"Don't know; don't care. He should be grateful that he was allowed his part in the rise of the Dark Lord".

"Azkaban: how did you escape?"

"That was my father's doing. My mother knew she was dying, and she convinced my father to make the switch…"

"Master Barty! You must not tell", Winky interrupted, "you is getting your father and my Master in big trouble… Say no more!", Winky ordered. "You is getting your father in big trouble! You is making trouble for all of us!"

Harry knew all this already, having heard it from Lucius.

"...Then a riot unexpectedly broke out at the campsite after the match. I had stolen a wand from the jacket pocket of some girl sitting directly in front of me. Winky didn't see because she's terribly afraid of heights, and had her face hidden in her hands…"

"You is bad boy!", Winky said. "you is defying your father, who did so much for you! Is this how you repay your father? Is this how you honour your mother's sacrifice?"

"By now, I was free of father's Imperious. It was like waking from a long nightmare. Father left me in Winky's care when he went off to help rescue the muggles. If there's one thing I hate more than anything else, it's a Death Eater that walked free. These traitors to their vows to my Master, who renounced my Master the first instance when the going got just a bit tough, these fair weather friends. The ones that plead bewitchment, that used their gold to buy their way out of Azkaban, rather than remain true to their vows of loyalty. I wanted to fight them, but Winky used her magic to bind herself to me before leading me into the woods, away from the riot. I didn't want to go, but she dragged me along.

"If there's one thing I hate more than a Death Eater who walked by selling out my Master, it's a wannabe, a poseur. I don't know who those assholes at the campsite were, but they certainly were not Death Eaters. No Death Eater would call that sort of attention to themselves when they knew the Dark Lord was rising. It's the last thing they would want. I couldn't fight, but the one thing I could do was cast the Dark Mark, show them who the real Death Eater was. They fled at the first sight of my Master's insignia, proving they were frauds. That's when we were hit by Stunners from all sides. Winky and I were stunned. Father knew that if Winky was there, I had to be near. He found me under the Cloak. When the crowd was gone, he reversed the Stunner and put me back under the Imperious to take me home once again, a prisoner in my own home".

He leaned back against the wall, grinning a grin as though he was recalling the high point of his whole life.

"My Master came for me, he and Wormtail. They came just before midnight. My Master put Father under the Imperious and made him go about his business as if nothing had happened, but I was free! I felt more alive than I had in years. I accompanied my Master back to his home. I swore my loyalty as his faithful servant, perhaps his most loyal servant of all. I made it clear that I would have come for him, but for Father's interference. I had spent long years under his thumb, which is what restrained me.

"It worked for awhile, but Father, like me, began to fight off the Imperious. Before he was successful, he was taken to the Dark Lord's home and held there. He was made to send owl posts to fulfill his duties, all the while pleading illness and overwork. The Ministry was satisfied, and never bothered to check up on him. Then Wormtail allowed him to escape, and I knew full well where he would be headed: straight to Hogwarts and Dumbledore. I waited by the main entrance, and saw him arrive. Before I could do anything, I saw Potter and Krum with him. I waited until Potter left to get Dumbledore, I presume. I stunned Krum from behind. Then it was just a matter of eliminating my father. I killed him right then and there, and hid the body in the forest, under the invisibility cloak. After Dumbledore came, it was simply a matter of circling around to act as if I were just now arriving. I said Snape sent me, and knew I'd be believed and no one would ask later. I told him I hadn't seen any sign of him, and Dumbledore let that go without question. Later, I disposed of the body".

"How did you do that?", Dumbledore asked.

"I transfigured it into a bone and buried it in that patch of fresh earth by Hagrid's cabin".

"Oh Master Barty, what has you done?!", Winky said, tears filling her large eyes. "You has killed my Master! What will Winky do now? Why did Master send Winky away?"

Dumbledore cast the Body Bind on Barty: "Minverva, would you stand guard. Severus: would you inform the Minister and Madam Maxime, and let Poppy know we've found the real Alistair Moody: he'll need some looking after. Have them come up to my office, as this concerns her student. Harry: my office first, then I want Madam Pomphrey to examine you".

Along the way, Harry asked: "What about Mr. and Mrs. Diggory?"

"They're with Professor Sprout, as she's Hufflepuff's Head of House and knew him well".

Dumbledore gave the password, and the gargoyle stepped aside to allow admittance to the Headmaster's office complex. He held the door for Harry, took his place behind the desk.

"Hello, Fawks", Harry said to the scarlet phoenix on his perch. Fawkes chirped back at him.

"Have a seat", the Headmaster offered. They waited until Madam Maxime arrived.

"Madam Maxime", Dumbledore atarted, "I've asked you to be here since this concerns your student.

"I appreacite zat, Professor Dumbledore.

"You had another vision?", he asked.

"Yes, Professor, he's back… Voldemort's back. I felt it and saw a lot of what he was seeing", Harry explained.

"What did you see?", Dumbledore asked.

"I felt the exaultation he felt when whatever Wormtail did that reincarnated him, the mixture of contempt and gratitude he felt for Wormtail, the anger towards the Death Eaters who apparated for their failures to look for him. I saw them, just essssss-loads of them, the Death Eaters. Only minutes after he regained a physical form, he killed someone, maybe more than once. He was also complaining about those who felt the Dark Mark burn, but who didn't show".

"Where did this occur?"

"It was in an old graveyard, somewhere. I'm sure I never saw it before tonight. It was all distorted, like, I more feel his feelings than see through his eyes, unless it's something he sees and feels strongly about".

"Was Cedric there?"

"I guess so, but I didn't see him, so I can't really say one way or the other… I know it's not much to go on. I did get the impression he was expecting me, and wasn't very pleased to see I wasn't there".

"It's enough, and I do believe you're right: Voldemort's reincarnated himself. The last time, it was something he bragged about frequently: that he wouldn't die, and he would return. I don't doubt that he wanted you, after all, he and his followers went to great lengths to do everything that would send you to Voldemort. How did you not reach the Cup first?"

"Cedric was faster on his feet. He just got there first, that's all. Maybe he wouldn't have if I hadn't stopped Krum when I did".

"The best laid schemes o' mice an' men gang aft agley"

"Sir?"

"From Robert Burns, Harry, 'The best laid plans of mice and men often go astray'. It would seem that this is the case here. Voldemort's servant, young Barty Crouch couldn't account for everything".

"Cedric…"

"The wrong place at the wrong time".

"So you think he's…"

"Voldemort has little regard for life, and wouldn't hesitate to eliminate him once he'd served Voldemort's purpose for him. He would take out his anger against young Barty for not sending him who he was expecting on Cedric. I fear the worst. He, especially, wouldn't want to leave a witness behind. Harry: I'm deeply sorry I didn't foresee this sooner. I don't want you mentioning anything about this. Since we really don't _know_ and only suspect".

"I see…"

"Best to be off to Madam Pomphrey's…"

"Is that really necessary?"

"You did almost pass out in front of everyone, and since you're a foreign exchange student, I think it for the best, just to make sure. In all likelyhood, we'll have you back with the Beaux Batons soon enough".

Dumbledore escorted Harry and Madam Maxime to the infirmary to make certain he actually went for the exam. He returned back the way he came once he'd seen Harry under Pomphrey's care.

"Vot 'appened, 'Arry", Madam Maxime asked. Vernon, Petunia, Dudley and Hermione were also there. So Madam suspended Hermione's confinement?

"Harry? What happened back there?", Vernon wanted to know. "Was it that irresponsible old git again? I should wring his neck, the bastard".

"It was nothing, really…"

"Eet deedn't look like nozzing. 'Ow are you feeling?"

"And you!", Vernon directed his ire at Madam Maxime, "how the _hell_ could you allow Harry to come here in the first place! We sent Harry to your school to get him away from here!"

"Vernon, Dear, let's calm down and hear what they have to say".

"It was my scar acting up again because Whatshisname was acting up again. I explained before".

"Oui, I do remember".

"This has happened before?", Vernon asked, "then why didn't you say something?"

"What could you or Mum do about it?", Harry asked. "I'm afraid this isn't anything any normie doctors can treat. I didn't want to give you anything else to worry about".

"You really do live in your own little world, don't you?", Dudley asked.

Hermione said not a word as she was looking out the windows.

"Harry, over here", it was Madam Pomphrey, "in bed".

Madam Maxime wasn't the only one, as Molly Weasley was also there, along with the Twins and Ginny.

"Harry! Harry!", Molly called out.

"All this fuss over a head ache? Really!", Harry protested. "I can assure you, it was nothing. Looked worse than it really is".

"The boys flooed a message. Are you _sure_ you're OK? I've been so worried ever since you were entered into that Tournament", Molly Weasley said.

"I appreciate the concern, but it's all much ado about nothing. Though, thanks for coming".

"What's your concern with all of this?", Vernon asked Molly.

"Harry did help save Ginny's life…"

"Yes, I remember", Vernon said. "But still…"

"Harry's practically a member of the family. It was our son, Charlie, the Dragon Keeper, who made sure Harry received advance notice of the dragons", she explained. "Arthur and I have been doing what we can to see Harry safe".

"I see", Vernon said, "you have my thanks for that… Unlike most of you lot".

"Sorry to break up this touching scene", Madam Pomphrey said, "but I still have a patient to examine. Mr. Potter, just lie still", Pomphrey ordered. Harry saw he wasn't alone as the genuine Mad Eye Moody was recovering from the stasis charm in another bed, his wooden leg and cybernetic eye on the night stand. She began to cast the diagnostic spells of her profession. Satisfied, she went towards her office. She returned with something.

"If you have any more pain, just take three drops of this potion. That should clear it up. Otherwise, I can find nothing wrong, and you're free to go".

"I can reassure you", the Healer addressed Harry's step parents, "Harry is perfectly fine, and has suffered no after effects from his ordeal".

"Is there anything you can do to make sure it doesn't happen again?", Vernon asked.

"I'm afraid not, there hasn't been a case like this that I can recall. Other than Harry, no one has ever been hit with a Killing Curse and lived to tell about it. As for the after effects of his surviving, it's uncharted territory in the annals of magical medicine".

Just then, there were voices in the hall way.

"How _dare_ you bring that, that… _thing_ inside the castle", it was McGonagall. "The Headmaster has said repeatedly that they are not welcome…"

McGonagall and Fudge entered.

"I thought I'd find Dumbledore here", Fudge complained.

"This is an infirmary, and I have patients here, take it outside!", Pomphrey ordered. For once, her order was ignored.

"Not until we get this cleared up", Fudge was saying.

Dumbledore and Snape arrived.

"Minerva?", Dumbledore started, "Has something happened? Didn't I leave you to watch over young Barty?"

"Thanks to _him_ ", she motioned towards Fudge, " _that_ will no longer be necessary. The Minister ordered that a dementor be sent here. I told him you would never permit that thing inside the castle, but he ignored _everything_ I said. As soon as they entered the room, that thing gave him the Kiss. There's nothing left to guard. I told him…"

"My Dear lady", Fudge began, "as Minister of Magic it is up to me to decide what security precautions I need before interviewing an insane, violent suspect".

Harry had never seen Professor McGonagall so livid. Not even close to when Ron mouthed off about her that first class in Transfiguration. Her cheeks were splotched with patches of red.

"Cornelius, is this true?", Dumbledore asked.

"As I was telling your Deputy Headmistress, it was my judgment call. I wasn't about to interview a raving lunatic without adequate back-up. A lunatic who's already murdered his own father in cold blood, and who knows how many besides. Dumbledore!"

"You have also deprived us of his testimony as to why he murdered his father", Dumbledore objected.

"We already know why! He's a criminally insane lunatic!"

"We also heard him confess that he was acting on Voldemort's orders. We needed to ask about accomplices. We could have asked what he knew of Cedric Diggory's disappearance. You may have prevented us from rescuing him".

"In his delusions, he thought he was acting for Youknowwho. How can you make sense out of insanity? As for Mr. Diggory, it was simply an unfortunate accident with a malformed Portkey. Accidents do happen, and it is most unfortunate that this has tainted the reputation of the revival of the Triwizard Tournament. I, as a supporter of the revival, shall take my share of the responsibility".

"I'm afraid that Voldemort has made good on his promise to return…"

"Return from the dead? He's gone. Period. End of discussion".

"It isn't that simple, I'm afraid. Voldemort said that he was immortal, that he would return should the unthinkable happen. Mr. Potter's vision of Voldemort's reincarnation…"

"Seriously, Albus, the delusional brag of a megalomaniac, and a _vision?_ This is all you have to go on, the vision of a boy who has funny turns in class…"

"Been reading Skeeter again, Mr. Minister?", Harry spoke up for the first time.

"And so what if I have? Do you deny that you've been having head aches? Deny being a Parseltongue? Do you deny you've been having these dreams, nightmares, hallucinations? It would seem there's been quite a lot that your Professor has been concealing about you, including your constant attention-seeking, and your penchant for exaggeration".

"Mr. Minister, I can assure you this was no hallucination. As for Skeeter, she has long been known for muckraking, exaggeration, and sensationalism. I know that the scar I got from Whatshisname acts up in his presence, or when he's feeling strongly about something. I knew this ever since we discovered that Whatshisname had possessed the unfortunate Professor Quirrel. Why should it be any different now?"

"I can assure you, Mr. Potter is as sane as you or I", Dumbledore said. "The scar he got the night his parents were murdered hasn't addled his brains. His story lines up with what Barty Crouch told us under Veritas, and agrees with the sequence of events of the past summer".

"Is that a professional opinion? May I see your mind healer's license? Are you that determined to set off a panic that will tear down everything we've worked to rebuild these past twelve years? All because of a boy with a penchant for having head aches and telling tall tales that keep getting taller with each retelling. How can you be so naive?"

"Mr. Minister", Snape drawled, "it has been no secret of what I think of Mr. Pot-ter. He inherited all James' arrogance, but little of his talent. Pot-ter is an insufferable know-it-all who, since the first day he set foot on this campus, has believed that rules are for everyone, but not him. Last time I taught Pot-ter, I caught him cheating in my class, and I failed him for it. Despite that, I believe every word he says concerning the return of Youknowwho".

Snape rolled up his left sleeve, showing the Dark Mark. Fudge involuntarily backed away upon seeing the Dark Mark.

"Youknowwho has burned his Dark Mark into every one of his followers. The Mark serves to set us apart, enable us to recognize one another, and serves as a means of calling us to his side. Any time he touches a Dark Mark, all the rest of the Dark Marks burn, calling us to apparate to his side immediately. As you can see, it's faded a bit over the last hour or two, but it has never been so clear in over a decade. I knew the Dark Lord was on the rise for well over a year now, so did Karkarov, so did every other Death Eater. I felt the Mark burn, and so did Karkarov, which prompted his sudden flight and disappearance. Karkarov had betrayed all too many followers to ever believe he'd be accepted back into the fold.

"Mr. Minister, there is only _one_ individual who can make these Marks burn, and that's the Dark Lord himself. When I felt my Mark burn, I knew. Knew the Dark Lord had returned, and that was _before_ hearing Mr. Pot-ter's story of his vision".

Minister Fudge had always struck Harry as being somewhat pompous, maybe a little too full of himself, always asking what's in it for me in the political sense. Maybe a little too easily swayed by flattery. Despite that, he seemed to be of good nature. Now, he was being totally unreasonable, looking to take the easy way out.

"He… couldn't… really be back… could he?"

Fudge fidgeted with his trademark lime-green pot hat as he rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet.

"Cornelius, you are at a historical cross road. Depending on how you decide, you can go down in history as one of the greatest Ministers we've ever had: the Minister who rallied Magical Britain to thwart Lord Voldemort's attempted rise to power once again. Or you can be remembered as the Minister who refused to accept reality, who stepped aside and allowed Lord Voldemort to regain all the power he had some twelve years ago.

"The first thing you need to do is recall the dementors from Azkaban…"

"Recall the dementors?! Dumbledore! _Half_ the population sleeps securely because they _know_ the dementors are patrolling the grounds. There is no way the Wizengamot would _ever_ go along with that…"

"The dementors aren't going to remain loyal to our side. They will defect the instant Voldemort asks them to switch their allegiances. He, not the Ministry, can offer them the widest scope for their natural abilities, and their inclinations. They will not remain at their posts, I'm afraid. They will happily throw open the doors of Azkaban for the worst of Voldemort's worst. They, backed by the dementors, will form the core of a formidable army that the Ministry will be hard pressed to fight.

"You should send envoys to the giants and the werewolf packs…"

"This is absolutely insane! If I suggested any such thing, I would be laughed out of office! You know what giants are like: savage, brutal, stupid, and you can't reason with them anyway. Who would volunteer for such a mission? They would be killed the _instant_ they tried".

"Meester Meeneester, I can assure you zat Moi is not savage, brutal, and certainly not stupid!", Madam Maxime objected. "An' neizzer ees Monsieur 'Agreed"

"The people hate them!"

"Voldemort won't hesitate. He will promise the giants and werewolves he will honour their rights and freedoms. Let us also not forget the centaurs, merpeople, house elves and goblins – all the non-humans and semi-humans we have been treating like their lives didn't matter – all ready allies of anyone who comes along and offers them a modicum of respect. Of course, those offers won't be made in good faith, as Voldemort has never cared about anything or anyone besides himself. He will use his useful idiots until they're no longer useful and then discard them with no more consideration than throwing out a used tissue. They, unfortunately, won't see that as he makes them a far more attractive offer than the Ministry. What we need is to meet with their respective leaders, point out this most obvious fact, and win, if not their allegiance, their neutrality.

"You are blinded by your blood prejudice. Didn't your dementor just destroy the last of a pure blood family as ancient and noble as any? I have always said that it doesn't matter how you are born, but how you grow up. Look at young Barty Crouch: what did he do with his life? Attitudes like those towards the giants, weres, the half-bloods, the mudbloods needs to change, otherwise, it will be one dark lord wannabe after another. It wasn't all that long between the fall of Grindelwald and the rise of Voldemort".

Harry thought to himself that was rich, coming from Dumbledore. In every case that involved Dumbledore and the causes of the less-than-pure-blood or the intelligent non-humans, he refused to act, saying "his hands were tied" – despite being both the Chief Warlock and Supreme Mugwump. Case in point: the Hogwarts house elves were neither free nor paid wages. Another case in point: Buckbeak the hippogryph. Dumbledore was willing to offer his Care of Magical Creatures Professor a shoulder to cry on, but he wouldn't lift a finger, spend even a slight modicum of all his political capital, to save that one life. Then there was Sirius Black, whom Dumbledore consigned to life in Azkaban without a trial, and Hagrid, whose name he refused to clear despite knowing of his innocence in the Chamber of Secrets affair.

Lucius had complained on more than one occasion about Hogwarts' house elves and their inability to help, due to the binding enchantments. That was a policy he could have changed a very long time ago, had he so chosen. Dumbledore had never done a damned thing that would ever see the influence of the pure-bloods diminished in any way. Or the causes of the non-humans and semi-humans advanced in the slightest. He had done absolutely nothing to head off the passage of Fudge's new law furthering discrimination against the weres. That's why his supposed friend and ally, Remus Lupin, had never worked a day in the magical world.

"I'm not promising it will be easy, Cornelius, but that's what being a leader is: doing the right thing, no matter how unpopular, no matter how difficult, that may be as opposed to going along with the mob's transient passions. And, yes, Cornelius, sending envoys could see you removed from office for so going against the grain. However, it's better to try and fail than to fail to try. You also need to be honest with your public, let them know what's really going on…"

"Say Voldemort's back?! That would create a panic. Especially when we have no real evidence…"

"What more evidence do you need? You've seen with your own eyes what Professor Snape has shown you; we've heard from Barty Crouch that Voldemort's back. A full page ad in the _Daily Prophet_ making the rebirth announcement? We all know that is not how Voldemort operates. He will work from the shadows for as long as possible, gathering allies, positioning his players, consolidating his strengths, shoring up his weaknesses. You say you are concerned about a panic? A panic is coming whether you like it or not. You can act now to contain it, or react to it after it occurs. There's that being a leader aspect of your office again. Are you so unwilling to believe in the very people who selected you to be their leader?"

"Now see here, Dumbledore, I do have a lot of respect for you. I haven't always agreed with your decisions, but I have given you quite a bit of discretion when it comes to how you run Hogwarts. There aren't many Ministers who would allow you to admit werewolves as students, or let you promote Hagrid to a full professorship based upon no professional qualifications whatsoever other than an unnatural affinity for "critters", or allow you to hire a known Death Eater on nothing more than his say-so that he's reformed, or allow Argus Filch or Sybil Trelawney to remain. I have been more than willing to let you set your own lesson plans independent of the Ministry and the Board. However if it is your intention to oppose me…"

"Cornelius, I intend to oppose no one other than Lord Voldemort. If that is also your intention, we remain on the same side. If that is not the case, then I'm afraid we've come to a parting of the ways. I have never sought your office, and I do not seek it now. You shall have my support if you want it, but I have to do what I have to do".

"I see… I need to return to the Ministry, to review Hogwarts' educational standards among all the other business I have. Good day".

"And a good evening to you, Mr. Minister".

Fudge was almost out the door before returning, stepping up to Harry to hand over a heavy bag.

"I almost forgot, your winnings, 10,000 Galleons".

"Mr. Minister, I didn't win…"

"We judges ruled unanimously that Cedric Diggory forfeited when he failed to return with the Cup. As you were the second place finisher, that leaves you as winner. I'm sorry the awards ceremony couldn't take place. Congratulations on becoming the first Champion of the revised Triwizard Tournament".

Hermione let one of the windows drop with a loud bang.

"Miss Granger!", Pomphrey reprimanded, "just what do you think you're doing?"

"Nnnnnn… othing".

"We don't need cold air in here, and we don't need you making enough noise to wake the dead. If you can't be quiet, I'll ask you to leave".

"Yes, Ma'am".

The Minister left the infirmary, and Dumbledore waited until his footsteps were no longer heard.

"Molly", Dumbledore turned to Mrs. Weasley, "there is much work to be done. Am I right in assuming I can count on you and Arthur?"

"Of course you can. We know what Cornelius is like, that Arthur has been denied promotions because of his fascination for muggle tech. Fudge has said repeatedly that Arthur is lacking in wizarding and blood pride. It's been holding him back ever since he joined the Ministry".

"I'll need to send a message to Arthur. Being a Ministry insider, he's well placed to contact others at the Ministry who are not as short sighted as Cornelius. We need to persuade as many who are open to accepting the truth as we can", Dumbledore explained.

"I'll let him know", Bill Weasley volunteered.

"Be discreet, we don't want Fudge to have any reason to believe I'm interfering with Ministry business".

"Leave it up to me".

"Minerva, I would like to see Hagrid in my office as soon as possible, Madam Maxime, too, if she will consent to come…

"Poppy, you will find a most distressed house elf in Moody's office named Winky. See what you can do for her".

"I'll see to it", she agreed, though reluctantly.

"I'll also have to contact Remus Lupin, Arabella Figg, Mundungus Fletcher, Ted Tonks… the old crowd".

Turning to Snape: "Severus, you know what I must ask you to do", he said. "If you are ready… if you are prepared..."

"I am", he said, but was looking paler than usual.

"Then good luck, Severus", Dumbledore said as the Potions Master swept from the infirmary, but not without a trace of apprehension on his face that he couldn't completely keep concealed.

"Now I must see the Diggory's", he said. "Harry, Hermione: I want you to go directly to the airliner and stay there. I will see Madam Maxime, see if I can get you excused from the rest of your classes off the airliner. In light of recent events, the less reason for anyone to be paying you attention, the better".

Back at the airliner, Hermione had something to show off: a large beetle in a glass jar with some leaves and twigs.

"See who I found snooping around outside the infirmary", she announced, "Rita Skeeter in her animagus form. I put an Unbreakable Charm on the jar so she can't transform. It was you who gave me the idea, Harry, when you mentioned bugs. Viktor said he found a 'water beetle' in my hair after the second task. That's when he asked if I'd be willing to visit him in Bulgaria, which she mentioned specifically in that article".

"There was a beetle outside during Trelawney's class where I had that vision", Harry recalled. "I also remember seeing a bug in the garden set up for the Triwizard Ball. I remember because I thought it odd they'd include bugs in the garden – a bit too realistic, I thought. Anyway, how do you know it's Skeeter?"

"Look closely", Hermione said, "at the markings around her antennae, just like those hideous glasses she's always wearing".

"Ah, yes, so she is", Harry said. "You should have stepped on her back at Madam Pomphrey's".

"I brought my muggle make-up kit", Alessandra offered, "a little nail polish remover on a cotton ball, drop it in there, and she won't be writing any more nasty articles about you".

"A little Spell-o-tape to cover the holes in the lid", Gabrielle suggested.

"But that's… _murder!_ ", Hermione objected.

"She's an illegal, and unregistered, animagus so it wouldn't be murder, just an unfortunate Oooopsie! No one would convict you", Harry said.

Skeeter was frantically buzzing around the jar. She still understood every word, and thought they might actually to something like that.

"She'd deserve it", Alessandra said.

"I have other plans", Hermione explained, "I've offered to let her go provided that she not write another word for one year from the date she's released, and after that, that she do honest reporting. If she doesn't, then the Ministry will be informed, and it's off to Azkaban. What say you, Rita? We have an understanding? I'll let you think about it for a couple of days"

Harry's vision meant another owlpost to Lucius, and another midnight sneak into the Room of Requirement so Lucius could view the memory of the vision. Lucius' memory thief program pulled up details Harry didn't recall at first. One confirmed the unfortunate demise of Cedric Diggory.

"Don't worry, Harry", Lucius reassured, "there will be an anonymous tip to the Ministry. Just in case, another to Mr. and Mrs. Diggory. Then we figure out what we're going to do about Voldemort. Given Fudge's attitude, that he doesn't want anyone's upsetting his comfortable little world, we can't count on any help from that quarter".

"What will we do?", Harry asked.

"As of right now, I haven't a clue, but I promise you this: it's gonna be a long, hot summer".

 **0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF**

Just before the End of Term Feast, Hermione and Harry dropped in to see Hagrid.

"Good ter seeya", he greeted as he answered the door.

They noticed two of Hagrid's over sized cups on the table before the fireplace. He noticed their noticing.

"Juss been havin' a cuppa with Olympe", he explained, "yer juss miss her. How boud ye?"

"I'm always up for your herbal tea", Harry said, "one of the few things I missed from Hogwarts".

"Tankee fer sain so", Hagrid said, as he put on the kettle.

"So you've made up?", Hermione asked.

"Doan know whatcher talkin' boud", he said, as he fetched more normal sized cups and saucers from the cupboard. He filled the normal sized cups, and the big one for himself. He also put out a platter of doughy cookies.

He settled opposite Harry and Hermione, fixing Harry with his beetle-black eyes.

"Ye all rye?", he asked.

"Sure, I'm OK", Harry replied.

"No yer not", Hagrid disagreed. "Course yer not. But ye will be".

Harry had nothing to say, certainly nothing about Lucius, which is why he felt OK.

"Knew he was comin' back, course he was. Ah've known it awl-long. It was sumpin what had ter happen. Known it fer years now. Now thah it has, we'll just have ter get on widdit. Migh' be able to stop him beferr he gets a good hold. Course we'll fight, that's Dumblederr's plan inniways. Great man, Dumblederr. So long's we have him on our side, Ah ain none too worried".

All the while Hagrid was praising Dumbledore, Harry had to work very hard to keep his contempt from showing. Dumbledore was not anywhere close to being great, and Harry was definitely worried about the outcome of a Voldemort/Dumbledore showdown. He was also worried about his large friend, the friend with his blind faith in the very one who fucked him over as a thirteen year old Third Year.

"No sense sittin' 'round an worryin' boud it. What comes is what comes, den we deal widdit".

"What did Dumbledore ask you to do?", Hermione asked, "you know, that night when he said he wanted to meet up with you and Madam Maxime?"

"Oh dat, well, he asked Madam to 'scuse you an Harry from lessins outside ter airliner, an' he got a lit'le job fer me over ter summer. Olympe – dass Madam Maxime ter yers – mibbee comin' too. T'ink Ah've godder persuaded. Mine ye's, Ah ain 'pose ter be sain nuttin', not even ter youse two, so let's keep that down on thuh QT, Kay?"

"We didn't hear a thing", Harry said.

"Sorry, but I think I'll have to see Madam Pomphrey over this come and go deafness", Hermione told him. "What were you saying?"

"How boud comin' ter hepps me wiff ter lass skrewt?"

He noticed the horrified look on their faces.

"Ah'm juss jokin'. Juss kiddin".

Harry was dreading the Leaving Feast, and would have preferred remaining in the airliner, but as a representative of Beaux Batons, Maxime insisted he attend. Thanks to Lucius Lutra's anonymous tip, the aurors confirmed that Cedric was dead, and had been buried in Tom Riddle's grave. He'd been careful to avoid any mention of Potter, instead, he made it look like a confession from one of the Death Eaters who'd witnessed Voldemort's rebirth and was having second thoughts. Still, he was blamed for it – the accusations that he and his school cheated his way into the Tournament – especially from the Badgers whose glory he'd stolen, regardless of how much he protested that Cedric, not he, was the true winner. House Hufflepuff had damned little glory, and now, their moment to really shine was snatched right out from under them. Furthermore, they had been deprived of their star Seeker, who at least made them winners on the Quiddich Pitch.

He'd tried giving the 10,000 Galleons to the Diggory's, but they refused. They knew Harry wasn't to blame, and accepted the decision of the Triwizard judges.

He was able to corner Fred and George to offer them the gold. They, at first, refused to accept what they saw as charity.

"Fred, George: don't think of it as charity", Harry had explained. "Take it, use it to continue with your inventions, like those Canary Cremes; use it to rent a store front in Diagon Alley and make Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes a reality. I know I could use a good laugh… I expect we all are going to be needing a good laugh in the coming days. Think of it as an investment, and I'll take ownership as a percentage of your start-up. I don't think we'll need the goblins, and if my handshake is good enough for you, your word is good enough for me. Just do me one favour…"

"That would be?", George asked.

"Buy Ron and Ginny some new robes and books and tell them it's from you two. If you don't accept, I'll drop the gold in the sewer when I get back home".

The last Leaving Feast Harry attended saw the Hall decorated with the banners of the House which won that year's House Cup. This time, there were no house banners, no Hogwarts banners, but black bunting for Cedric Diggory. At the staff table, Hagrid was having what looked like an amicable conversation with Madam Maxime. The real Mad Eye Moody was there. He looked none the worst for spending three days in stasis. The rest of the faculty, McGoangall, Flitwick, Sprout, and Snape were there as well. Snape caught his eye, and Snape looked as sour as usual, but his expression hard to read. What did Dumbledore ask of him? From the Pensieve, he knew Snape had been the Order's double agent. Was that what he was doing now? Spying for Dumbledore? He had gotten away with it once before, and Harry felt a pang of guilt for every time he'd wished the demanding, unpopular, Potions Master would come to a bad end to free his class of his unpleasantness – the hounding of students simply for being in Gryffindor, the favoritism shown the Slytherins, the enmity he harboured for Harry over what James and his gang had done. This time, he knew the "odds are he won't live to see tomorrow". This could very well be the last time he saw Severus Snape alive.

Harry was brought back to the here and now as Dumbledore took to the owl-shaped podium:

"And so, another year comes to a close. I have seen many an academic year come to a close, said farewell to many graduating classes, said see you next year to many a class of under graduates. To say we've had an eventful year would be quite the understatement. There is much that I would like to say, but first, I would like to acknowledge one of our Hogwarts family who can not be with us. I speak of Cedric Diggory. Cedric exemplified all the best of House Hufflepuff. He was a loyal friend, he worked hard, and played fair…"

Pomona Sprout and Cho Chang were both wiping their eyes.

"...Let us raise a glass to Cedric's memory", Dumbledore stood.

Everyone, Hogwartians and foreign visitors alike, rose with the scraping of benches against the stone floor, glasses of pumpkin juice in hand.

"To Cedric Diggory", Dumbledore said, as he raised his glass.

"To Cedric Diggory", the assemblage intoned as one.

"I know his death has touched us all, regardless of whether you knew him well or not. Therefore, it is my belief that each and every one of you needs to hear the truth. Now, I know there will be those who believe you should not. Some of your parents may feel you're too young to deal with this knowledge. There are interests best served by sweeping this under the rug, chalking it up to an unfortunate accident with a malformed Portkey. Those who would rather believe a pleasant lie that poses no threat to their comfortable world. I think better of each and every one of you.

The truth of the matter is this: Cedric Diggory was murdered by Lord Voldemort".

There was a buzz around the Hall, whispers of disbelief, of horror. Dumbledore waited until the Hall grew quiet again.

"The Ministry of Magic does not want my telling you this. However, I believe the hard truth is preferable to the pleasant lie. To go on allowing you to believe that it was just an accident, or what is even worse, that Mr. Diggory contributed to his own death by some blunder on his part, is a desecration to his memory.

"There is, of course, one other name which needs mentioning here: Harry Potter. Harry was Cedric's closest competitor, and as such, was declared the winner when Cedric didn't appear at the arena, and was declared forfeit. This wasn't Mr. Potter's doing, but that of the judges, of which I was one. At the time, we had no idea as to what really happened. Had we done so, we would have ended the Triwizard Tournament with no winner. Due to the interference of Voldemort's agents, the whole Tournament should have been declared null and void as it was never a fair competition from the very start. Alas, as they say, hindsight is always twenty-twenty, and what is done can not be undone.

"The whole purpose behind the Triwizard Tournament has always been to improve international relations and closer co-operation. In these times, these ideals are more important that ever, not just platitudes that are as empty as sweet. Lord Voldemort's talent for sowing enmity and discord is enormous. We need to fight him with open minds and open hearts. Our greatest weapons are strong bonds of friendship and trust. I say to all our foreign guests: you will always receive a warm welcome at Hogwarts any time you wish to return. Differences of language, differences of custom and culture are nothing if our aims are identical.

"I usually conclude this talk by wishing you all a pleasant summer. This year, in good conscience, I can not. I say – and I hope that I am wrong – there are difficult times ahead. Some of you have already suffered much loss during Voldemort's last rampage. Families have been torn asunder. A student has been taken from our midst. Remember Cedric. If the time should come where you have a choice between doing what is right, and what is expedient, remember a young man who was kind, and good, and brave. Remember what happened when he crossed paths with Voldemort. Remember Cedric Diggory".

Harry, Hermione, and Ron and the Twins were watching luggage being loaded into the Beaux Batons airliner. The Hogwartians waiting for the carriages to take them to the Hogsmeade train station to catch the Express to King's Cross. Harry thought of Aunt Petunia's flower beds at 4 Privet Drive, colourful and leafy, and hot down in the low lands much farther to the south. That meant gardening chores he wasn't especially looking forward to.

Fleur joined up: "Ziss summer, I am 'oping to get a job 'ere to improve my Eenglish. 'Ope vee can see each uzzer".

"I hope you do", Harry agreed, "I think we will".

"Your English is pretty good", Ron stammered to Fluer's smile, and Hermione's scowl.

"How do you think they'll get back?", Ron asked of the students boarding the Durmstrang ship. "Can they steer it without Karkarov?"

"Karkarov never steered", someone had overheard, "he just sat in his cabin vile vee did all the steering", Viktor Krum explained.

Being under the Imperious, he was held blameless for having attacked Cedric with the Cruciatus. He'd come to say his farewells to Hermione: "May I have a vord?", he asked.

"What's on your mind?", she replied as she walked off with Viktor.

Ron busied himself watching for the carriages.

Hermione and Viktor returned after a very brief conversation.

"I alvays liked Cedric", he said to Harry. "He vas alvays polite to me, despite being from Durmstrang, despite being vith Karkarov".

"I appreciate your saying so… What will Durmstrang do for a High Master now?"

"'Oo knows", he shrugged. "Ve do have somet'ing like your Board of Governors, so I suppose it vill be up to them to find a replacement. Anyvay, pleased to meet you, Harry Potter", he offered a hand.

"Nice meeting you too", Harry agreed.

"Keep up the flying and maybe vee match vits on the Quiddich pitch".

"I'd like that".

"Don't forget to owl us", Fred and George called out.

"Wait!", Ron called to Viktor, "may I have your autograph?"

"Certainly", Krum said as he took out a quill and a slip of parchment.

Hermione and Harry settled into their seats on the airliner, and buckled themselves in for takeoff. They watched as the wings unfolded and locked into place. The airliner lifted, and they could see the Durmstrang ship was getting underway. The airliner pointed its nose towards Black Lake as it began to accelerate and climb to cruising altitude. The Express was on its way to pick up the Hogwartians.

"What do you suppose will happen now?", Hermione asked Harry.

"I wish I knew".

"So", she said, "he's really back, isn't he?"

"I wish I could tell you otherwise, I wish I didn't see what I saw, know what I know. Yes, Hermione, he's back".


	36. The Long Hot Summer

**The Long Hot Summer**

"So", asked Hermione, "what will we do now?"

"Honestly, I haven't the vaguest idea. Take Hagrid's advice, and what comes, comes, then we deal with it. As for me, as soon as I get back, I'll be packing for ten days in Majorca before summer school. After that, I… just don't know…"

"What about our families? What about us?"

"We still have the goblin wards, so our families will be safe. One thing: we get in touch with Remus, and intensify defense training. Better to have it and not need it than to need it and not have it".

"What about Dumbledore?"

"I'd keep him out of it. Remember, he's proven himself quite unworthy of our trust. Like Uncle Vernon says, he's highly irresponsible, and of questionable competence. Look at all the shit that he allowed to happen under his very nose. He didn't do a damn thing about Quirrel".

She shuddered at the mention of his name.

"You OK?"

"Unpleasant memory, that's all".

"Don't forget about that mountain troll that got inside the castle. Then there's the whole Triwizard Tournament clusterfuck. Then there was Ginny and her possessed dairy. She just walked through the doors of Hogwarts with one of the darkest products of the Dark Arts, and nary a peep from the wards. How does shit like this happen? I don't like it… I don't like it at all…"

"How about how he rescued the muggles at the World Cup?"

"You weren't there, but I was and heard Barty Crouch junior tell us they weren't Death Eaters, that no Death Eater would call such attention to themselves while Voldmort was in the process of regaining his strength. That makes sense, they wouldn't, they would want as little attention paid to their Dark Lord as possible. I wouldn't put it past the old bastard, staging that attack. Convenient how that happened at a major public event, just what the doctor ordered to give him back the Headmaster's position. Oh, and Barty's casting the Dark Mark that sent them fleeing? That was the cherry on top. Interesting how all these Death Eaters run amok at the World Cup and not a single one gets arrested".

"You think he would?"

"Hell, I don't know, I can't prove anything, but I'll tell you this: I'm not ruling out the possibility".

"What about his reconstituting the Order of the Phoenix?"

"You mean the Order of the Sycophants? You were there: Hagrid, Lupin, Molly and Arthur, Arabella, Mundungus, Mad Eye, etc, etc, etc _ad infinitum_ – every last one thinks Dumbledore shits gumdrops and lollipops… Merlin, help us".

"So what will you do?"

"I have some owls to get off, then I'm gonna lay on a beach, soak up some sun and fresh sea air and let my troubles wash away with the tide".

"We're going to Paris again", Hermione told him.

"There ya go, I suggest you do the same".

"At least we won't have to worry about Rita Skeeter and her nasty articles. She agreed to my conditions".

"I dunnow, I kind'a liked Alessandra's nail polish remover cotton ball idea".

"You can't mean it".

"Not really, hell, who knows? Skeeter might even prove useful".

 _4 Privet Dr_

"I'm hooooome!", Harry called out after the portkey dropped him off just outside the wards.

"You OK?", Vernon asked. "Must've been a shock… about your classmate".

"It was", he agreed. "Never thought I'd see that, losing a classmate. Never happened before Hogwarts...".

"Ready for Majorca?", Petunia asked to head off the rant she knew was coming.

"Lookin' forward to it, I just need to pack and send Hedwig to the Burrow".

Harry took out a normie pen and normie paper to write a short message:

 _Dear Mr. and Mrs Weasley:_

 _We're off to Majorca tomorrow, so would you look after Hedwig for the next ten days? We'll appreciate it (well Hedwig, not so much). Since we'll be gone, could you hold any owlposts until we get back? Will send post cards._

 _Regards,_

 _Harry_

"Here, Hedwig, take this to the Burrow", as he tied the missive to a leg, and offered an owl treat. "They'll take good care of you", as he sent the snow-white owl off.

 _The Burrow_

Fred's, George's, Ron's and Ginny's summer was shaping up to be a good deal less pleasant. Ron thought this would be the worst summer since he nearly flunked out of Hogwarts.

"So good to see you so soon, Professor", Molly greeted the arrival of Dumbledore.

"I'm afraid this isn't a purely social call, Molly. The Order is in need of a headquarters".

"Have you found a place so soon?"

"Indeed I have. It's the old Black home in London…"

"Black, as in Sirius Black?"

"Indeed. Sirius was the black sheep of the family, as he had no interest in the Dark Arts, unlike his younger brother, Regulus. He was driven out when he was sixteen and moved in with James and his parents. Sirius' mother, Walpurga, thought she had disowned him, but it was Sirius' grandfather's part of the will that left the house to Sirius. She put up quite the fight, but to no avail. Sirius, being the only surviving male heir automatically became Lord Black. Shortly before he left for Azkaban, he offered me the use of the house whenever I thought I might need it. He had no desire to ever live where his childhood was so bad.

"As Sirius has been away for over ten years, the house has stood unoccupied, except for the Black family house elf: Kreacher. I would like for you to make it livable again. Being that it was the home of a well known dark family, there are already considerable defenses in place, which I shall be reinforcing. I hope I'm wrong, but I want to have a safe house up and available should we need one".

"You're sure Sirius won't mind? Have you heard from him?"

"It would seem Sirius has dropped out of sight. Perhaps he's fled the country? Being that he was originally with the Order, I don't see his objecting".

"Of course, Professor, we'll do what we can. I did say you can count on us back at Hogwarts".

 _12 Grimmauld Pl._

Grimmauld Place was in Islington Borough, about a half-hour from King's Cross. During the 19th century, this was an upscale neighborhood. It had fallen on hard times, and was now working class, many of the mansions converted into town houses and apartments. One of these homes was built in the 1860s, home to a successful industrialist. Sirius' Black's great grandfather had taken a liking for the home, and somehow persuaded its normie owner to sell it. How this was accomplished is today unknown, so likely involved something illegal. The house of three and a half stories, is remembered today only by the skip in addresses. The place between 11 Grimmauld and 13 Grimmauld looks like nothing more than overlapping side yards. The Black home appears only to magi, and only those magi who are permitted to see it, as it's protected with an Unplottable Charm, Notice-Me-Not Charms, and an array of formidable wards. When it appears to those who are allowed to see it, it looks like it's pushing the houses on either side off their foundations. Of course, the muggles notice nothing.

The front door lacked a lock, but opened for Dumbledore, as only a wand unlocked it. For the first time in over ten years.

"Oh my!", Molly called out.

"What a sh… dump!", Ron pointed out.

"It's not so bad", she said as she ran a finger over a very dusty table top, "nothing a little sprucing-up can't fix".

"A little…", the Twins were going to say something sarcastic.

"Fuck're you and what the _fuck_ are you doing in Mistress' house?"

They'd met Kreacher. He was very old, looked like his skin was three sizes too big, his bat-like ears filled with hairs, and every bit as filthy as the rags he wore.

"Kreacher, I am your master, and I order you to serve and obey the people you see before you. You will follow their orders as you would follow Sirius' Is that understood?", Dumbledore said.

"Un… derstood", Kreacher said with no trace of enthusiasm. He could activate Kreacher's enchantment as Sirius had delegated that ability to Dumbledore.

"How could you let the house get like this?", Molly asked.

"Mistress gone, Regulus gone, Sirius – the breaker of Mistress' heart – abandoned Kreacher, leaving Kreacher only Mistress' memories for company. It suits Kreacher just fine", there was a hint of defiance in his voice.

"Well, let's see what we're dealing with", Molly said.

The drawers and cupboards claimed by boggarts; the drapes lousy with doxies, this wasn't going to be an easy job…

All of the Black heirlooms were intact, as no one knew about the house, and so didn't loot it. Nothing much had changed since Victorian times. The lamps and chandeliers were gas jets, and not the more modern gas mantles still used these days with petrol or propane fired lanterns. The old house had never been wired for electricity, the "ice box" was a literal ice box. No central cooling other than open windows, though it was equipped with stream radiators for central heat. The boiler room in the basement, just off the dining room that could seat at least a couple dozen guests, was Kreacher's living quarters where he slept on piles of filthy rags.

Molly decided to keep the bedrooms above the third story as they were as these were the bedrooms of Sirius and Regulus. The door to Sirius' bedroom was decorated with a Gryffindor banner. Regulus' with a Slytherin banner and a sign: "Entry forbidden without the express permission of Regulus A. Black". The two bedrooms couldn't be more different. Sirius had covered the walls with pictures of motorcycles and pin-up girls clipped from muggle magazines. There were Iron Maiden posters (the muggle power metal band, not the medieval torture device) and a banner of House Gryffindor. It must have pained Walpurga greatly, seeing this. Regulus' bedroom walls still had articles clipped form the Daily Prophet about Voldemort and his activities, now gone yellow, pinned up. There was a portrait of Phineas Nigellus Black – the only Headmaster from Slytherin – on the wall next to a House Slytherin banner. There were guest bedrooms on the second and third floors that would serve for overnight stay-overs if that were necessary.

"How is Arthur doing?", Dumbledore asked.

"He's been discreetly asking around the Ministry", Molly informed him.

"How about you?", she asked.

"So far, all the original members are coming back. I've asked so much in the past, but they're ready to do more", Dumbledore told her.

"Kids!", Molly called out, "let's get started"

 _Owlery Holt_

"From everything I've learned, everything you and Harry have told me", Lucius was explaining, "we can't count on Dumbledore".

"Do you know what you're saying?! The Professor was the _only_ one to stand up to the Dark Lord in a country where almost _everyone_ was afraid to even say his name. He saved us…"

"Actually, Harry saved you…"

"You have _no_ idea what it was like!"

"Then why don't you enlighten me?"

"OK, then, imagine Voldemort's in power. You don't know who his followers are. Your classmate, your co-worker, the friendly counter man in a shop in Diagon Ally could be one. You dare not express an honest opinion without that furtive look all around, and then, only in whispers, lest you be overheard. You can't trust anyone. Every day, the _Prophet_ brings stories of murders, torturing, no one seems safe, and muggles are dying too. You know the Dark Lord can control people, make them do the most horrific things, and they can't help themselves. The Ministry's in disarray, they have no idea as to what to do, and they're burdened with the additional task of keeping the muggle public in the dark. You never knew if today was the day you'd return home, see the Dark Mark above your home, and you knew what you were about to find inside. Terror, panic, confusion: everywhere. That's how it was.

"Then a hero stepped up. It's times like this that either bring out the worst in everyone, or the best. Albus Dumbledore and his Order of the Phoenix were those who showed their best. I can say I am proud to have been one of the original members, recruited just before the end of my final year at Hogwarts. The rest of the Marauders, and James, and his fiancee Lily Evans, united with our Headmaster to oppose Voldemort. The cost was high, as you well know. We lost James and Lily, along with all too many good people. Far too many… We kept track of known Death Eaters, and other dark magi who might join his ranks. We fought them to rescue many a potential victim. We dogged Youknowwho's every step, slowing him down, forcing him underground. We prevented his take-over of the Ministry, and likely the muggle government soon after. Our efforts restored faith where there was none.

"You see, this is what Albus Dumbledore did for us. He, and he alone, was the _only_ wizard Youknowwho ever feared. He held Magical Britain together. After Voldemort lost his power, he was first in line to become the next Minister of Magic, but he repeatedly declined to accept the position. He explained that his devotion was Hogwarts and the education of the next generations. The people will look up to him as a natural leader".

"That was then, but this is a new time and a new problem", Lucius explained. "Yes, I've heard Vernon Dursley complaining about Dumbledore's irresponsibility, incompetence, and foolishness. He's blinded by his parental concerns for Harry's well being, and I can hardly blame him. That doesn't change the fact that Dumbledore, himself, is blinded by his Harry fixation, and that damned prophecy. It never seems to occur to any of you geniuses that treating the damn thing as if it has written the future in stone makes it self-fulfilling. That's one thing Voldemort and Dumbledore have in common. Dumbledore has focused with laser-precision monomania on the idea that Harry Potter must defeat Voldemort. He has been actively shaping Mr. Potter's _entire_ life to that end, no thought for Harry's well-being, regardless of how that affects his future prospects. Putting all one's eggs in one basket is a strategy that will get all your eggs broke in one fell swoop, wouldn't you agree?"

"I… suppose…", Sirius said. "But… Dumbledore _loves_ Harry!"

"Like he loved you when it slipped his mind for eleven years that one of his first recruits was rotting in Azkaban without ever having his day in court? Like that, Sirius?"

"What are you saying?"

"How is it that the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, the Supreme Mugwump of the International Conference of Wizards, etc, etc, etc, couldn't get you a fair trial? How is it that he so frequently pleads 'my hands are tied' when we need his help?

"Sirius: Dumbledore is a _user._ I doubt he's ever dealt with anyone honestly in his entire life. He's filled his Order of the Phoenix with fawning acolytes, and yes-men who won't dare tell him anything he doesn't want to hear. If we rely on him, well, we should go to Voldemort right now and negotiate the best possible terms of surrender".

"I… find it hard to believe".

"I understand, but I think you can believe this", Lucius pulled a manila folder from his desk drawer.

"What is it?"

"Just read"

Sirius' jaw slowly dropped farther and farther, eyes widening. He slumped as he handed the file back.

"Where did you get this?"

"From the office of the First Secretary to the Minister of Magic: Miss Dolores Umbridge: his consigliere who does all the dirty hands work for him.

"That's right: all the while Dumbledore was promising Harry he was doing everything to get you out of Azkaban, he was working to prevent the reopening of your case. When he failed, and Madam Bones got you a trial, he made it clear he didn't want your leaving Azkaban Island, and he didn't care how".

"But… _why?!_ "

"You knew too much, especially what was in the Last Will and Testament of James and Lily Potter, especially regarding their wishes for Harry's guardianship, and the extend of the Potter family assets. Sirius, Dumbledore is not your friend, and he certainly isn't Harry's".

"So what do we do now?"

"First thing: who do we have?"

"Well, there's Amelia Bones, but, I dunnow… I'm considered an escaped felon. Fleeing Azkaban before my trail, everyone's gonna assume I'm guilty as charged".

"Would she talk with you? Could you convince her?"

"I honestly don't know… I could try".

"I'll give you an emergency portkey just in case she tries to detain you".

 _Bones Manor_

Well after dark, Sirius came calling.

"Good evening, Amelia", he said.

"Get in here!", she said as she pulled him through the front door. "I never… no one saw you?"

"No one, I can assure you". He'd gone most of the way in his Padfoot form, reversing only after passing the wards.

"I must say, you've certainly dropped out of sight. Kingsley hasn't come up with a clue; nothing from the muggle police".

"Kingsley?"

"Shacklebolt, under special assignment from Pius Thicknesse himself. He's leading the investigation for your apprehension. I may have resigned as Minister of the Department, but I am still an auror. I should turn you in right off. You must know that, so I wonder: why are you taking such a chance? You go back to Azkaban and it's the Kiss".

"Is that what you're going to do? Hand me over to them?"

"That depends on what you say in the next sixty seconds".

"Have you heard? Hewhomustnotbenamed is back?"

"It's all over the Ministry, how Albus is putting all credibility to Potter's absurd tale of seeing the reincarnation of a man known to be dead for a dozen years now in a vision. He's determined to incite the panic that will allow him to depose Minister Fudge".

"You can't seriously believe that?"

"I could, had I not known he could have had the position for the asking after Millicent Bagnold retired. It makes no sense that he, all of a sudden, would change his mind. As for Hewhomustnotbenamed, I don't know. I've heard all the rumours, how he claimed he wouldn't be going away so easily should the unthinkable happen, but he also cultivated a cult of personality that would be enhanced by wild claims. That, I do not believe, and as for Potter, he's been playing me for a fool ever since that incident with the Philosopher's Stone. Wanting the fame of being the Boy Who Lived to go on, now that we have actually seen him as a person, not as a legend, well, I see that as perfectly plausible. So what's this about?"

Sirius knew he was treading on dangerous territory here. Amelia made it quite clear she was in no mood to be co-operating with Lucius in any way. He couldn't claim to be with Dumbledore's Order, lest he give it away, and that was the last thing he needed Fudge hearing: that his rival was organizing a secret society. Fudge would immediately assume its purpose was to work against him.

"I know my godson, and I don't believe a word about his being mentally unstable, or that he's seeking fame. He wouldn't be the Boy Who Lived had his mother and father not died when he was a baby. He'd trade all the fame and fortune that comes with it to have James and Lily back. There's no one in the Auror Corps I thought I could trust; I'm here to ask if there's anything you can do to keep him safe. You know he'll be starting summer school when they return from Majorca? It doesn't matter whether you or I believe – or don't believe – he's returned from the dead. There are sure to be plenty of his followers out there who _will_ believe, and who knows what they will do".

"So that's it?"

"Harry is, after all, my godson, and the closest he has to magical relations".

"I can assure you, there will be a detail of undercover aurors looking out for him while he's at muggle school. Resigning my position hasn't changed that, as we know the threat is very real".

"So do you still want me to come along quietly?"

"I'll forget we had this conversation, but I warn you: this had better be the last".

"Good evening, Madam Bones".

"I'm guessing your conversation didn't go so swell since you returned alone?", Lucius said after Sirius' return.

"No, it didn't. At least Amelia didn't try to arrest me on the spot. She did make it clear she's very much the skeptic concerning Youknowwho's return. She's not buying into Fudge's paranoid fantasies, but she's not convinced that Harry's vision holds any water. I suppose it was too much to ask that she would accept such a fantastic possibility on such tenuous evidence? I did learn that a Kingsley Shacklebolt is heading up the man hunt for me, that mean anything to you?"

"Harry mentioned that name: Dumbledore mentioned him as a possible member. I don't know what that means, but it's something to file away for future reference".

"So what do we do now?", Sirius asked.

"We wait. We wait and hope Amelia comes around. Sooner or later, she will learn for herself, and will be more persuadable".

 _12 Grimmauld Pl._

"Wake up call!", George called out loudly. Mum wants us to breakfast before taking care of the drawing room".

"You have any idea what time it is?", Ron complained.

"It's 8:00, c'mon, you don't want to keep Mother waiting".

This was a bad summer and getting worse, Ron thought. No fun, no sleeping in mornings.

After breakfast, Ron, Ginny, Fred and George assembled in the drawing room. This room had a high ceiling, olive green walls covered with tapestries long gone dingy with dirt, though the golden thread, which on closer examination, was actually fine gold wire still shined brightly. The carpet sent up puffs of dust with every step.

"Gather around", Molly said of the dark green curtains that were drawn over the windows looking out onto the street. "I've never seen a doxie infestation this bad before. What that house elf's been doing…"

The curtains buzzed as though covered with invisible bees.

"Grab a mask and a spray bottle".

She'd been to the hardware store in Ottery St Catchpole to buy spray bottles and dust masks. The spray bottles were filled with a black liquid looking like India ink.

"Just spray them with Doxicide, but you don't want to be inhaling it yourselves. I have the antivenin, but it's best to avoid their bites. Any questions?", she waited.

"No? Then let's get started".

She demonstrated: as soon as the Doxicide hit the curtains, a doxie flew out of a fold in the curtain, quite upset, baring its needle-like fangs, shiny beetle black wings whirring, its body covered with thick, black fur. It shook its four tiny fists in rage at the invasion of its domain. One faceful of the Doxicide spray and it dropped to the floor with a surprising "thunk". Doxicide, despite the name, didn't actually kill them, just rendered them unconscious.

"Drop them in the bucket", she pointed out a five gallon plastic paint pail.

It quickly became a game, dodge the doxie.

"Fred! Will you stop fooling around?", she reprimanded. Fred had a squirming doxie held between his thumb and forefinger. "Just give it a spray". He did, and the doxie passed out immediately. Making sure Molly wasn't watching, he pocketed the inert doxie. George was doing the same. Doxie venom just might have its uses…

"There, finally", Molly said, three refills later, and three five gallon pails filled with inert doxies. The curtains well dampened with Doxicide. "Now we can open the curtains, let some air in here".

"Now what do we do with them?", Ginny asked.

"Take them well outside of town, and let them go. No sense killing them for being what they are", she explained. It had taken until mid morning to get the job done. "I think we'll tackle those after lunch"

She was referring to two glass fronted cabinets that stood on either side of the mantle. Inside were a variety of unusual items: daggers, a coiled snake skin, tarnished silver boxes that had inscriptions in a foreign language they couldn't read, and a crystal bottle with an ornate stopped with a large opal set in the top, and filled with what looked all too much like blood.

The items in that cabinet didn't want to be taken out. One was some sort of silver instrument of unknown purpose that looked like tweezers, but with multiple grips. When touched, it sidled up Fred's arm, like a spider, until it tried to jam an end into his arm. Molly threw it to the ground just in time before smashing it with a heavy book: _Nature's Nobility, a Genealogy of Wizarding Families_. One of the silver boxes got Molly, biting her hand which grew a think, brown crust, like a heavy glove. A touch of her wand fixed the problem.

"Wartcap powder", she explained as she tossed it into a trash bag. George wrapped his hand in a rag before retrieving it to join the doxies filling his pocket.

There was a music box that when wound up played a vaguely sinister tinkling tune that had everyone suddenly feeling very sleepy. Ginny figured it out, and slammed down the lid. Ron wondered if a similar music box was used on Fluffy. Other items included a heavy locket that wouldn't open, and a dusty box containing an Order of Merlin, First Class, awarded to Sirius' grandfather. "Services to the Ministry", was the only explanation given for the award.

All the while they had to deal with Kreacher, who claimed he was "cleaning", but what he was really doing was fetching items from the trash to hide in the boiler room.

It took three days to clean out the drawing room, leaving just a writing desk that held something as it constantly quivered slightly.

"Probably just a boggart", Molly explained, "but we'll leave it to Mad Eye, just to be safe, not sorry".

The drawing room was ready to serve as the conference room of the Order of the Phoenix.

 **0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF**

Upon returning from Majorca, there was a thick stack of _Daily Prophets_ awaiting.

"You should have put a hold on your subscription", Vernon said.

"I didn't do that since I want to see if there's been any Voldemort activity I missed", he explained.

"What can you do about it?", Petunia asked.

"I need to know", he explained, "for myself. For my sanity".

Ten days worth of _Daily Prophets,_ and not one mention of anything having to do with Voldemort, no mention of statements from the Ministry, no reports of strange deaths or Death Eater attacks, nothing. There was something, however: an article about a Chudley Cannons Chaser who'd been beaned with a Bludger during a game. The article said: "If that leaves a scar on his forehead, will we have to worship him too?"

Another article from another day had a snide comment about a "tale worthy of Harry Potter" regarding some preposterous claim. It didn't take too long for Harry to figure he was the object of a psy-op. The _Prophet_ , likely at the behest of Minister Fudge, was doing everything it could to destroy his credibility. There was nothing he could do about it as the _Prophet,_ as always, skated the thin line between opinion and slander. One other thing he noticed: Rita Skeeter's byline was missing completely, so she was holding up her end of the bargain she'd made with Hermione.

Hedwig returned from the Burrow, but came bearing no mail. That was strange, as he was hoping to hear from the Twins on how their plans for Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes were coming along. He usually got something, even if only complaints about too many chores and Molly's insistence that they show more ambition to get as many OWLs as they could to be more like their older brother: Percy.

He met up with Hermione the next day for the first day of summer school make-up classes.

"You heard from the Twins?", Harry asked.

"We just got back from Paris, but, no, nothing. You see the latest _Prophets_?"

"Yeah, I saw 'em all right. They don't need Skeeter to do a job on me. Nothing about Voldemort either, seems he's lying low for now".

"I don't understand how Fudge can make so light of the situation".

"Competence isn't one of the Wizarding World's strong suits. Fudge should call a meeting with Voldemort to negotiate the best possible terms of surrender if he's going down that road. Might as well try to get something rather than nothing".

"Denial: it ain't just a river in Egypt".

"No, it sure ain't. I wonder what everyone's up to?"

"No idea…"

Harry owled postcards to the Burrow, Malfoy Manor, Longbottom Manor, and the Rookery. Every time, Hedwig returned empty. When Hedwig was in his cage, no owls except for the one that dropped the _Daily Prophet_ on the door step.

He tried again, sending Hedwig out with letters. Again, he returned with no replies. It wasn't until Lucius called. Petunia recognized the high pitched, screechy voice on the other end. While Harry was home, Lucius used muggle communications.

"Harry!", she called out, "your furry friend"

"How's it goin'?", Harry asked.

"Sent Snuffles out to see Amelia to make sure your protection will be there".

"Yeah, we saw the weirdos who'd come to class, figured it was them".

"Unfortunately, Snuffy says she's not on-line just yet, but we're still hoping she'll come around. Oh, he says he misses the Hogwarts chow. Can you send more?"

"I… don't know…"

"What do you mean?"

"I've sent owls to my friends, but I'm getting no replies. Not a single one, and that's not like the Twins to be avoiding me, especially since I'm an investor. I was expecting to hear from them on how the joke shop's shaping up".

"That's not good, not good at all… I'd consider the owl network compromised. Better to stop using it".

"I'm sure Hedwig'll like that… until he gets bored, that is. Who do you suppose… Dumbledore?"

"That's a good possibility, especially since he's revived his old organization. There's the possibility Fudge is behind it as well. You've seen the _Prophet_? It looks like he doesn't want word getting out".

"Always interfering, every _fucking_ time!"

"I understand, best to go along for now, don't do anything that may tip them off you're onto them. We're taking care of things from our end. Will visit soon".

"OK, until then".

"Until then".

Harry and Lucius were still code talking in case the muggle authorities were listening in, as they were still looking for the fugitive Sirius Black.

The rest of June dragged on through July: summer school, homework, summer school homework… no owl posts from any of his friends, whether from Hogwarts or Beaux Batons. More snide remarks in the _Prophet,_ though no overt character assassinations. No word from Sirius or Lucius.

The normie news broadcast a story about a gruesome murder of an unidentified woman just a block from 10 Downing, the Prime Minister's residence. No suspects, and the victim wasn't carrying any identification. No suspects, which was a bit unusual for a daylight assault. Nothing in the next morning's _Daily Prophet_. Just another of Vernon's rants about how the whole country was going to hell in a handcart.

Things didn't get interesting until three days later: the whole family was awakened in the middle of the night as the klaxon sounded: the warning that someone tried crossing the wards.

"Stay here!", Harry ordered. "Whatever it is, this is wizard work".

Whoever it was had attempted to apparate or portkey across the wards and would have been ejected. Harry slipped out the back door, wand ready. He slipped around the house and took a look from around the side yard.

Looking quite perplexed stood a girl about his age, wearing nothing more than a night dress.

"Lumos", he lit his wand. She noticed, watched his wand.

"Harry… Harry Potter?", she asked, obviously disoriented.

"I've seen you before, haven't I?"

"I… I… guess so… maybe..."

"Yeah, you went to Hogwarts? I thought I saw you there when I was a Firstie"

"Sssssusan… Bones"

"Amelia's niece?" She said nothing, just nodded.

"Here", he touched one of the runestones with his wand, causing them to glow blue for a second or two.

"Come inside", as he made an opening through the wards.

All the lights were on now. Vernon, Petunia, and Dudley wondering what was going on, and who this strange girl was…

"Susan Bones from Hogwarts", Harry announced as he escorted her through the front door. "Has something happened?", he asked the girl. It was pretty obvious from how she was acting that something had happened, and it wasn't good.

The girl was so distraught she could hardly speak.

"I'll get a glass of water", Petunia volunteered as she headed for the kitchen.

Harry escorted her to the sofa in the living room.

Petunia returned about a half minute later: "Here, drink this". Susan took a few gulps, and did her best to compose herself.

"What happened?", Harry asked.

"Iiiiiiit… was… Hhhhhhim…", she barely got out.

"You mean Voldemort?"

"Attacked Bones Manor… They came…"

"They?"

"The Ddddddeath Eaters… aunt Amelia shoved an emergency portkey in my hands, said I'd be safe… He and Aunt Amelia… duel… Aunt… Amelia?"

"You're safe here", Petunia offered.

It was obvious that the brave front was crumbling…

"If you have to let it out, let it out", Petunia said. She and Susan hugged tightly as Susan wept. What could Petunia say? That it was all right when she knew it probably wasn't close to being all right.

"What's going on?", Vernon asked.

"It would seem that Voldemort has decided to become more proactive. He apparently attacked her aunt Amelia, the auror and former Directrix of the DMLE".

"Why did she come here?"

"I haven't a clue… Said something about a portkey, so Amelia must've sent her".

The klaxon sounded again; Susan jumped. Harry went to look out the front window.

"It's her", he announced as he went out… Amelia's robes were torn with scorch marks, her face and arms with cuts and bruises now swelling.

"Aunt Amelia!", Susan called out with happy tears replacing sad tears. They ran to hold each other tight. "I thought I'd never see you again".

"I know… I know…", Amelia said to her niece.

Harry was finally able to take care of the introductions.

"I have no one else to turn to", Amelia explained, "no one I can trust. I… we… need your help, Harry. I know you aren't doing everything all by yourself, that you've been getting outside help that you refused to talk about…"

"You're right, I do. If you will recall, I said that he would come forward when the time was right, and it looks like it has. If you'll excuse me".

Amelia expected anything but for Harry's picking up the telephone.

"Hello, Lucius"…

At first, she wondered if he was referring to Malfoy and why he'd be using muggle telephone to call Malfoy Manor…

"...Yes, I know what time it is. Something's happened, and Amelia and Susan are here. It would seem Voldemort's gone hot…"

"...That's what they said: he attacked Bones Manor. They used emergency portkeys to bring themselves here…"

"...Come at once…"

"...Snuffles too, I'll put up the Muffliato. See you in a few…"

Harry waved his wand: "Muffliato!", as he cast the anti-eavesdropping charm.

"They'll be here any second"

He barely finished saying that when Lucius and Sirius apparated into the living room.

"Sirius!", she greeted in surprise, "and you brought…"

"Lucius Lutra, and pleased to make your acquaintance", he offered a hand, and Amelia bent down to take his rough, webbed, hand-paw. "You're an animagus?"

Lucius went through the whole story once again.

"So _you're_ the mysterious mentor?!"

"Not exactly, I'm the second in line: my Master, through me, through Lucius Malfoy and Draco".

"And who is this Master of yours?", Amelia asked.

"I can't say the name as I'm under the Fidelius".

"Of course, I should have guessed… He had Emmilene Vance assassinated in broad daylight. Being a magician, she wouldn't have muggle identification, or records for that matter".

"Emmilene Vance, you said?", Sirius asked.

"You know her?", Amelia asked.

"She was with the original Order of the Phoenix", Sirius explained, "I remember her well".

"Are they targeting former members?", Harry asked.

"It's highly possible", Sirius explained, "Voldemort would see them as a special threat, and the last thing he'd want to see is a new Order arise. He'd want to make examples of them to discourage others from getting similar ideas".

"What does this mean for _us?_ ", Vernon asked.

"I'm not going to say there is no danger", Lucius said. "However, I don't anticipate any immediate threat just yet. Voldemort won't come after Harry until he's certain to have eliminated the opposition. Harry is too much of a sympathetic character for now, and he doesn't need martyrs the public can rally around. No, he'll wait until he's consolidated enough power where that no longer matters. He'll wait until that damn fool Fudge destroys his image as the legendary Boy Who Lived.

"As for you and Petunia and Dudley, he could use you to get to Harry. It's something I'll be keeping an eye on".

"What about Harry? What about his education?"

"You may have to put it on hold. I don't know when or for how long.

"Amelia, Susan, you can't go back to Bones Manor. I'll put you up at Owlery Holt with Sirius. It's the only way to stay off Voldemort's radar. If you're ready…"

"Shouldn't we pack?"

"I'll take care of that, but for now, we need to get you out of sight. Later, when the coast is clear, I'll fetch you things from Bones Manor, but that can wait".

He and Sirius apparated Susan and her aunt away to North Devon. Harry knew he was in for a rough day at school tomorrow as there would be no more sleep tonight. The constant prickling of his scar made that difficult enough.

At school, Harry told Hermione: "Shit's goin' down", he said. "Amelia and Susan Bones showed up last night. Voldemort attacked them. Didn't waste a whole lot of time".

"So what do we do now?"

"I have no idea, given the owl situation, what? Send Hedwig to warn the Weasleys and the rest of our friends? If that _f'kin_ Dumbledumbass hadn't interfered…"

"Maybe he knows already?", she suggested hopefully.

"I wouldn't count on that, he's gotten awfully unreliable lately, and I don't trust him any further than I could throw him. Look at what he's done: kept us incommunicado from all our friends ever since the start of the summer break. If we didn't live so close, attend the same school, I bet it'd be the same for us".

"So what do we do now?"

"Forch, Sirius is working on it".

"What can he do? Isn't he still on the run?"

"I have more faith in my godfather than my former Headmaster, that's for sure. We wait until I hear back. So far, that's all we can do, without the ability to owlpost".

 _12 Grimmauld Pl_

The doorbell rang, setting off the portrait of Walpurga:

"MUDBLOODS! IN MY HOUSE! THAT BLOOD TRAITOR BITCH AND HER BRATS! WHAT WOULD OUR ANCESTORS THINK! …"

"I keep telling them to not ring the bell!", Molly was complaining as she and her husband struggled to get the curtains closed to silence the portrait. They would have gotten rid of it, but for the Permanent Sticking Charm.

The usual crowd was filing in. Some like Dumbledore, Snape, Mad Eye, they recognized, but most of the others, they did not. Molly, Arthur, and Albus were determined to keep it that way.

"You kids", Molly called out.

"We know, up to our rooms…", Ron said.

"Why can't we…", Fred and George started.

"You know the rules, the Professor said no one under age…"

"We're sixteen!", Fred began.

"Close enough, if you ask me", George completed that thought.

"Not according to the Professor, now scoot! All of you, now!", their mother ordered. "Not another word!"

They had no choice but to head upstairs to their bedrooms.

Fred and George took out what looked like flesh coloured string. "She didn't get them all", they announced.

"You can't use those", Ginny said.

"Why not?".

"Mother has put an Imperturbable Charm on the drawing room door. She figured you'd do something like that".

This was another invention, the Extensible Ears, the Twins came up for the product line of their joke shop. They worked by placing one end in your own ears and the "string" would elongate, slide across floors and under doors where the far end would flare into a horn to collect sound and conduct it back to the listener. Not as sophisticated as Lucius Lutra's bugs, but just as effective for short ranges. Fred and George discovered their sister was right: the far end of the Extensible Ears wouldn't go under the door.

"Could I ask a favour?", Molly said to Mad Eye, "there's something in a wardrobe upstairs".

His cybernetic eye rolled upwards, until only white showed: "It's a boggart", he said.

"Dammit!", he called out, "would you fetch me a glass of water?"

He removed the cybernetic eye with a sickening squelching sound.

"Do you have any idea how disgusting that is?", asked a young lady with electric pink hair.

"Here you are", as Molly handed over the water-filled glass. Moody dropped his eye in it and prodded it up and down as it whirled in every direction.

"It gets stuck ever since that scum wore it", he explained as he was putting it back in.

After settling around the conference table, Dumbledore started the latest meeting of the Order of the Phoenix. He announced his latest activities:

"I have been intercepting Harry's owlposts", he said as he showed all the correspondence that was never delivered. "We have post cards from Majorca, a letter to Fred and George. Letters to France, to Mr. Longbottom, Mr. Malfoy, and Miss Lovegood. None mention anything about Sirius".

"This doesn't seem right, invading his privacy", Molly said.

"It is an unfortunate necessity", Dumbledore explained, "the less Voldemort knows about his friends, the safer they will be. It is unfortunate that he is attending that muggle school with Miss Granger".

He didn't mention how much Harry didn't trust him, that he didn't want Harry's saying anything to his friends that might tell everyone that he lost the confidence of the Boy Who Lived.

"What have we learned since our last meeting?"

"The Ministry is still insisting that the murder of Emmeline Vance was just a random street crime, committed by muggle criminals or terrorists", Kingsley Shacklebolt, the insider with the Auror Corps reported. "I don't know, but it's possible that's all it was as whoever did this used knives, not the Killing Curse. It is curious, however, that there were no muggle witnesses on a crowded street in midday. That doesn't seem too probable.

"The former head of the Department, Amelia Bones and her niece have disappeared. That wasn't in the _Prophet._ The reports say there was an attack at Bones Manor and no one has any clue as to where they are, or even if they're alive or not. She or they put up one helluva fight. We can only assume the worst: they're in Voldemort's hands now. Even if Amelia wouldn't say anything, I wouldn't put it past him to use the Cruciatus on Susan".

"This is most disturbing… Have you learned anything, Severus?"

"Only what we suspected, that the Dark Lord has ordered the elimination of known members of the Order. This time, he is not taking chances. He is still not completely convinced I can be trusted, which is to be expected", Snape drawled. "As for Bones, she would be a likely target, and poor Susan would simply be eliminated for being in the wrong place at the wrong time".

"How about you, Arthur?"

"Fudge has ordered everyone to stop talking about Youknowwho, or we can clear out our desks. I'm sorry, but I am unable to make any progress in convincing others inside the Ministry of the truth of his return".

"That is quite all right, Arthur, we still need eyes and ears inside the Ministry for Voldemort certainly does", Dumbledore reassured him.

"Fudge is keeping the pressure on the Prophet to keep up his campaign to destroy Harry's reputation. Unfortunately, it seems to be paying off. Public doubt about Potter's credibility is on the rise".

"As for Sirius?"

"As you know, I'm heading up that investigation", Shacklebolt said, "but we have nothing. I haven't needed to feed my investigators false leads as it's as if he'd dropped off the edge of the earth. The muggle authorities have no more idea as to where he is than we do".

"He hasn't made any attempt to contact Harry?"

"Not that we know of".

"I've been using my abilities as a metamorph to look after Harry and Hermione while they attend muggle school", Tonks reported. "Fudge wants me to keep him informed as to what he's doing. So far, no one suspicious has shown up".

"And has he said anything?"

"Once, I overheard him complaining that his owlposts aren't being answered. As for Fudge, I just tell him what he's doing in class, which isn't of much interest to him. Other than that, I have nothing really to report".

"How about you, Arabella?", Dumbledore asked.

"I invite Harry over for tea, but all he ever talks about is summer school, about how he'd like to have an actual summer break like his brother Dudley. He hasn't mentioned anything note worthy, but I don't expect he would as all he knows is that I'm the slightly dotty old catlady".

"How about you, Remus?"

"Harry and his friends are progressing well with their defense lessons. As for any mention of Sirius, nothing. I've asked, reminding that we were once Marauders and friends of James and Lily, but so far Harry's said nothing. He hasn't mentioned his vision, Cedric, not a word".

"If there's nothing else, we can wrap up this meeting", Dumbledore said. "Till next time".

 _Owlery Holt_

"Feeling better?", Lucius asked of Amelia and Susan after they'd had a good night's sleep.

"Yes", Amelia said.

"Much", Susan added. "What's going on here?"

"That's what I'd like to know", her aunt said.

"Very well, you need to know…"

Lucius explained everything, going back to Harry's Tenth. The suspicions about Dumbledore and his manipulations. Amelia didn't need much convincing on that point. The possibility that Dumbledore was using Harry as a weapon against his will, without any regard for the rest of his life. His doubts as to Dumbledore's competence to be leading an organization of yes-men as an effective counter to Voldemort's legions of Death Eaters. He explained about the prophecy which she already knew about, that he hadn't agreed completely there was anything to it, but that both Voldemort's followers and Dumbledore took it very seriously. He described Harry's pre-Hogwarts instruction under Malfoy. He explained he had his doubts about Voldemort's returning, but that he believed Harry's vision was of a real event, and that he had reincarnated himself somehow. He described his part in the rescue of Ginny Weasley, and that it was he, not Harry, who'd cast the Fiend Fyre spell.

"Now you know as much as I do", he concluded.

"What do we do now?", Amelia asked.

"Who do we have?", Lucius asked.

"There's John Dawlish and Clive Williamson, my two best aurors", she explained. "We all resigned together when Minister Fudge told us to end our investigations. Their cadets resigned with them".

"Would they be willing to work with you?"

"I'd have to ask, but if it was important enough, they were my best investigators, I don't think they'd refuse".

"May I impose on you to see if they will?"

"Certainly. It's much better than to be stuck here, doing nothing, even though it would be the safest course of action. If it will keep Susan safe, I'd do anything".

"You can trust them", Sirius said, "Lucius and Harry".

"No promises", Amelia said, "other than I will ask". She disapparated.

 **0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF**

August arrived with a heat wave. There was a temporary ban on lawn watering and car washing due to a drought that was causing reservoirs to fall to dangerously low levels. The once pristine suburban lawns were turning yellow and brown of thirst. The cars, dusty. In addition, the Dursleys' air conditioner had broken down, putting Vernon in an especially foul mood. To get away from the breezeless heat in the house, Harry had excused himself after dinner to walk around Little Whinging.

He was headed back home, well after sundown. Half the way down Magnolia Rd, he saw Dudley and his gang near the entrance to Magnolia Crescent. He stepped into the shadow of a lilac tree. He didn't like these cronies of Dudley's any more than they liked him. This was one blind spot Vernon and Petunia had: their overindulgence of Dudley, and his lack of choosing his company more wisely. When they weren't screwing off with video games, their other entertainments included throwing rocks at cars, then running off before they could be caught in the act, or tormenting the younger kids, or vandalizing the play park.

"He squealed like a pig, didn't he?", asked Malcolm. The rest laughed at hearing that. Harry had a pretty good idea as to who was doing the squealing.

"Nice right hook, Big D", Piers congratulated.

"Same time tomorrow night?", Dudley asked.

"Better at my place", George suggested, "the 'rents'll be gone all evening"

"Coolies!", came a chorus.

"And…", George paused for dramatic effect, "...I copied a key to the wet bar…" George produced the key from a back pocket.

"Awesome!"

"Anyway, 'night guys", Dudley said.

"'Night Big D"

They went their separate ways, and when they'd disappeared from sight, Harry ran to join up with his step-brother by the narrow alley that connected Magnolia Crescent and Wisteria Walk.

"You really shouldn't be hanging with that crowd, they're bad news", Harry told him.

"I'll thank you to mind your own business", Dudley protested.

"So you been beating up ten year olds again? I know you did Mark Evans two days ago".

"Look, Harry, the little shit had it coming, especially after he cheeked me in front of my friends. What was I supposed to do?"

"For _FUCK'S_ sake, Big D", he said his nick with extra sarcasm, "you're fourteen! Isn't it about _high time_ you started growing the _fuck_ up?! They're little kids: _ignore_ them".

They headed down the alley that was quite dark as it had no street lights, just garage walls on one side and a tall fence on the other.

"Let's get one thing straight step-brother, if I wanted to hear a damn sermon…"

He shuddered as if suddenly doused with a bucket filled with ice water. The indigo sky filled with stars had gone completely black, the street lights at either end, gone from sight, as had the Moon. The whispers of the trees, the distant rumble of traffic, all silenced. The sultry summer late evening had become piercingly, bitingly cold.

"What the fuck…", Dudley began.

"Shut up!", Harry ordered.

"I've gone blind!"

"I said, Shut! Up! I need to listen!"

Harry knew what this was, he'd seen it from a distance before, back after Sirius escaped. They couldn't be still hunting Sirius, could they? He knew he couldn't see them, he'd have to hear them. That's when he and Dudley heard the long, hoarse, rattling breaths. Dudley panicked, running down the alley.

"NOT THAT WAY YOU MORON! YOU'RE RUNNING RIGHT INTO IT!"

He felt an additional coldness at his back, so there was more than one. He pulled his wand, cursing, to see his student wand in his hand. Dudley screamed, his footsteps stopped.

"KEEP YOUR MOUTH CLOSED, WHATEVER YOU DO! NOT! OPEN! YOUR! MOUTH!", Harry called out. He caught sight of the one behind him, long flowing black robes, hood over the eyeless face, as it glided forward. Its putrid, rotten breathe filling his nostrils. Concentrate, he told himself, you did it for Remus, you can do it now…

"Expecto patronum!"

Silver smoke streamed from his student wand, and the dementor backed off, before resuming his advance as the silvery smoke dissipated.

"Expecto patronum!", he tried again, the silver smoke even feebler than the last time. The dementor was nearly on him, reaching forward with its dead decaying hands. He felt like drowning in its putrid breathe. Its hand at his throat.

Happy thoughts, happy thoughts – he told himself.

It was too late, there were no happy thoughts, he'd never see Hermione and Pansy again… He saw their faces, his best friend and girlfriend.

"EXPECTO PATRONUM!"

This time, the stag erupted from the tip of his wand, slamming the dementor in the gut with its antlers. The dementor fled, defeated.

"This way!", Harry called the stag's attention further down the alley. By its glow, he saw Dudley on the ground, the dementor with both hands around his face, as it was taking its time, forcing his mouth open for the Kiss that would steal his soul.

"Get him!"

The silvery stag hooked the dementor with his antlers, flipped it up and away from Dudley. This dementor, too, knew when it was licked and followed its companion off into the sky. The silvery stag cantered to the opposite end of the alley before dissolving into silvery vapour and disappearing.

Crisis passed, the stars, Moon, streetlights, lights in windows, the night sounds, returned.

"Dudley! Dudley! You OK?!"

He was curled up in a fetal position, whimpering. "Say something!"

He heard running feet, and looked up to see Arabella Figg, the old neighborhood catlady running towards them. Her tartan carpet slippers flip-flopping, tufts of gray hair peeking out from under a hair net. Up until he heard Dumbledore mention her name, Harry believed Mrs. Figg was just another elderly lady who had out lived all her relations, leaving her no company other than her cats. Sometimes Harry stopped by for a visit, as it didn't seem as if she ever had any company. Lately, she had been inviting him over for tea when they met around town. Harry quickly put away his wand.

"No! You idiot boy! Keep it out, we don't know if any more are coming! I'm a squib, so there's nothing I could have done. Albus sent me to keep an eye on you… When I get my hands on that _irresponsible_ 'Dung… He deserted his post when we needed him the most! How am I to fight off dementors? I haven't transfigured so much as a tea bag. I told him I'd flay him alive if he left before his relief showed up. He left anyway. It's fortunate I put Tibbies on the case…"

"Who's Tibbies?"

"My smartest cat, he came to get me right away as soon as 'Dung disapparated".

Harry wondered what it was about squibs and cats? She shared that with Argus Filch, a near magical connection with a cat.

"We have to get you back right away. When Dumbledore hears about this, I hope he _murders_ that 'Dung", Arabella raged on.

"C'mon, Big D, try to stand willya?", Harry said.

Dudley made an effort to get upright, but nearly fell over when Harry let go. He looked like he was going to feint any moment.

"Need a hand here", Harry said.

"When I get my hands on that Mundungus Fletcher… I don't know what Albus was thinking, sending…"

She was interrupted by the materialization of a squat, shabbily dressed man, and the scent of drink and stale tobacco. He looked in desperate need of a shower and a shave. His skraggly ginger hair long, his bandy legs short, his overcoat tattered. He had an invisibility cloak with him for some reason.

"S'up, Figgy", he greeted.

"You _irresponsible_ , skiving, sneak thief! Harry and his brother were just attacked by dementors, and you weren't here to do your damned job!"

"Blimey! 'Menters 'ere? 'Ere?"

"Yes! Here, you useless pile of bat shit!"

"Dass innuff uv dat! Ain nuttin been 'oppenin awl summer long. 'Ow's I supposter know? Whudder ter odds, inniways? 'Ad a line onna buyer fer me cauldrons. Man godda make a libben doan 'ee?"

"You were conned", Harry said, "lured away"

"What Harry said, but that thought never occurred to you…"

Harry thought to himself this Mundungus Fletcher wasn't very bright.

"You deserted your post to peddle your stolen cauldrons? Do you know what could have happened here tonight? _Do you?_! Harry and his brother were this close (finger and thumb together) to the Kiss, and there isn't a _damned_ thing I could do to prevent it!"

"Dey wuzzen stole, dey dropped outta ter sky, loss from a broom, mefinks".

"A likely story! No more excuses! I don't want to hear another word!"

"'Kay", he took Dudley's other arm. "C'mon", Harry encouraged, "not that much farther"

"Bleedin squib gibben errders", he said under his breathe

"Would you care to repeat that?", Arabella said.

"Nuttin, juss nuttin".

"Oh my word! What a catastrophe! Dumbledore told us we were to see you didn't work any magick", Arabella kept on ranting.

"So he's been spying on me?", Harry complained.

"In a word, yes, the Ministry will know, they _always_ know when there's underage magick. Good Lord, boy, they told me you were intelligent. Did you expect he'd let you wander about on your own after what happened last spring?"

"I don't see how to avoid magick, how else are you gonna drive off dementors?"

"We were supposed to keep you from doing magick at all cost… You had to fight them off by yourself… No use complaining about spilt potions. The cat's among the pixies now..."

Between them, they managed to stagger to 4 Privet Dr.

"You get inside and stay there", Arabella ordered Harry, who struggled Dudley to the door. "I have to go back home to await further instructions".

"And you! To Dumbledore right away, and no more side trips!"

Mundungus disapparated.

Harry rang the doorbell, and could see Petunia coming oddly distorted through the rippling glass…

"Diddy! It's about time, we were beginning to…"

Then she realized: "Diddy! What's happened?!"

Harry ducked aside just in time, as Dudley threw up all over the doormat.

"Vernon!… VERNON! NOW! THERE'S SOMETHING WRONG WITH DIDDY!", she called out.

Vernon came galumphing from the living room, walrus mustache blowing hither and thither as it always did when he was agitated. He helped his wife negotiate Dudley over the threshold while avoiding the puddle of sick he just made.

"He's ill, Vernon", she informed him.

"What's wrong, Son?", Vernon asked. "Did Mrs. Polkiss give you some of that foreign tea?"

"Why are you all covered in dirt?", Petunia asked. "Have you been rolling around on the ground?"

"Maybe he's been mugged?", Vernon suggested.

"Vernon! Quick! Call the police!

"Diddy, Dear, speak to me. What did they do to you?"

"Don't you worry", Vernon reassured, "we'll get to the bottom of this. Give us their names".

They said as they helped Dudley into the kitchen.

"SHHHH!", Petunia silenced Vernon, "he's trying to say something…

"Tell us what happened…"

"Not muggers", Dudley said, "cold… so… cold… Dark, couldn't see anything… no light… no sound… voices…. In my head… so… HORRIBLE…"

"OH MY GOD!", Vernon exploded. "He's on a bad trip! Those boys! Dudley! _WHAT DID YOU TAKE?_!"

"It felt… it felt…"

"Like you'd never be happy again", Harry finished that thought.

He addressed his parents: "He's not on drugs. It was dementors, two of them, we were attacked in that alley that connects Magnolia Crescent and Wisteria Walk…"

Petunia gasped, both hands over her mouth.

He was interrupted as a screech owl flew through the open kitchen window. It circled, dropping an envelope at Harry's feet. Wings skimming the top of the 'fridge as it turned around to fly out the window.

"What the…", Vernon began.

Harry tore open the envelope:

 _Dear Mr. Potter:_

 _We have received intelligence that you performed the Patronus Charm at twenty three minutes past nine this evening in a muggle inhabited area, and in the presence of a muggle._

 _Due to the severity of this breach of the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery a Ministry representative will arrive shortly at your residence to confiscate and destroy your wand._

 _As you have previously received a warning for a violation of Section 13 of the International Statute of Secrecy of the International Confederation of Wizards, we regret to inform you that your presence is required at a disciplinary hearing scheduled for 9:00AM on 12 August at the Ministry of Magic._

 _Hope you are well._

 _Sincerely,_

 _Mafalda Hopkirk  
_ _Office of the Improper Use of Magick_

"What's it say?", Vernon asked. Harry said nothing as he handed it over. Petunia and Vernon read it together.

"Nice while it lasted, the hocus-pocus", he said.

Vernon thought this would solve a lot of problems, but he didn't say that. Harry was headed out of the kitchen…

"What will you do now?", Petunia asked.

"Call Lucius…"

Just then, a barn owl landed on the window sill, hooting for attention. Harry saw it had a roll of parchment tied around a leg, which it held out as Harry approached. He untied the message, and the owl flew off. He unrolled the parchment:

 _Harry,_

 _Dumbledore's just arrived at the Ministry to sort this out. Do not leave your aunt's and uncle's. Do not work any more magick. DO NOT SURRENDER YOUR WAND!_

 _Arthur Weasley_

"That doesn't reassure me", Harry said, "Arthur's a good man, but he places _way_ too much faith in Dumbledumbass. Likely, he'll just claim his hands are tied, just like he did when they came to behead Buckbeak".

"So, this is good news?", Petunia asked.

"I still need to inform Lucius"

He dialed Lucius' cell phone number, it rang. "C'mon, c'mon, he said under his breathe.

"Evenin', Lucius", Harry said.

"...Some very bad news, I'm afraid…"

Harry told him all about what happened in the alley, the letter from Hopkirk, Arthur's reply…

"...Arthur puts too much faith in him…"

"...I agree, smells like a set-up: too convenient how 'Dung just happened to find a buyer just an hour before the dementors showed up, if you ask me…"

"...'Bye…"

Seconds later, Lucius popped into the kitchen.

"Let me see those letters", he requested. Harry handed them over.

"This is bad…"

"How bad?", Vernon and Petunia said at once.

"Harry needs to come with me to Owlery Holt _right now_ before those Ministry assholes arrive"

"Hold on! What about his summer school?"

"Harry's through, he's not going back…"

"His education...", Vernon was complaining.

"...Is now on hiatus. Vernon, Petunia, you have _no_ idea how brazen an act this was. There is no such thing as a wild dementor. _All_ of them are in the employ of the Ministry, so this wasn't just some random accident. If dementors were here, and they attacked Harry, it was on the orders of officials in the Ministry, and you can be sure very high up the food chain, perhaps, as high as the Minister's office itself. Then we have that 'buyer' (finger quotes) of Fletcher's cauldrons – just when he's needed the most. That was not an unfortunate coincidence.

"It's a win/win, so far as they're concerned. Harry gets the Dementor's Kiss, loses his soul, and he's out of the way permanently. He works magick as an underage sorcerer, gets sent to Azkaban and he's out of the way permanently".

"Dudley?"

"Was in the wrong place at the wrong time. They didn't care, not the dementors and whoever sent them. They would have Kissed him all the same, and you could have lost both Harry and Dudley: _everything_ that makes Harry Harry and Dudley Dudley. If he walks into that 'hearing' (finger quotes) it's all over. That kangaroo court will send him _straight_ to Azkaban, and I fear for his soul if that's allowed to happen. I don't have any more time to explain…"

They were interrupted by the arrival of yet another owl:

 _Dear Mr. Potter:_

 _Re: the letter of twenty two minutes ago, the Ministry of Magick has revised its order that your wand be destroyed forthwith. You may retain your wand until your hearing on 12 August. An official determination will be made at that time._

 _Wishing you a good evening_

 _Yours sincerely,_

 _Mafalda Hopkirk  
_ _Office of the Improper Use of Magick_

"So that solves that…", Vernon said.

"This changes nothing, besides giving us some breathing room", Lucius explained. "It will still be a show trial where Harry's guilt and punishment are already decided. We will be leaving for Owlery Holt. You _DO NOT_ want to be trusting these assholes, not with your son's life on the line. I can't emphasize that enough".

"When will we be seeing Harry again?"

Lucius sadly shook his head: "In all honesty, I don't know. Harry: pack up what you need and we'll be on our way…"

"Like _HELL_ you will…", Vernon started.

"Vernon, Dear", Petunia explained, "Being a squib whose sister was a full-on magician, I know exactly what they're talking about. That the dementors came here, HERE, of all places, is more than enough to convince me. He'll be with his godfather, and he's more able to take care of our Harry than we are. It's hard to admit, but it's beyond us".

Yet another owl arrived with a brief message:

 _Arthur's just told us what happened. Whatever you do, do not leave the house_

– _Molly_

"Are you still so sure?", Petunia asked.

"They mean well, but Mrs. Weasley, especially, thinks Dumbledumbass can do no wrong. The only reason they didn't go straight to Dumbledumbass after we saved Ginny was because of the Life Debt they owe us. Lucius is right: I have to go. I trust Lucius _onehelluvalot_ more than I'll ever trust him".

After packing, Harry brought his trunk into the living room.

"Ready?", Lucius asked.

"Let's do this", Harry agreed.

"I'm sorry, but I have to do this", Lucius said.

"What…", Petunia started.

"Obliviate!"

Another owl dropped off a scarlet envelope, this one at Petunia's feet. She picked it up.

"Who's that from?", Vernon asked.

"I don't know, but it's addressed to me", she showed the address:

Petunia Dursley  
4 Privet Dr.  
Little Whinging, the Kitchen

The envelope began to smoke, then it burst into flame: "REMEMBER MY LAST, PETUNIA!" roared through the house.

"What was that?!", Vernon asked.

"It's called a 'Howler'", she explained. "Used for important messages that the sender doesn't want ignored".

"And what does that mean?"

"I think it was from Dumbledore… he wants Harry to not leave…"

"Where is Harry anyway?", Vernon asked. "He was here a minute ago…"

"He disappeared with some dark haired man and a ferret", Dudley said. "Right there, in the living room".

"But…", Petunia said, "where is he?"


	37. Order of the Otter

**Order of the Otter**

 _12 Grimmauld Pl._

Once again, all the Weasley kids marched up to their bedrooms. Once again, magi were gathering and they would be cut out. One thing they did notice was the unusually large number gathering downstairs. Dumbledore's Order of the Phoenix seemed to be a smashing success.

The drawing room/conference room and the table magically grew to accommodate all the new arrivals. Dumbledore stood to address the group:

"I am gratified to see the response to my request for volunteers", he began.

"Anything for the Boy Who Lived", one called out.

"Thank you, Hestia", he answered. This was Hestia Jones. She had never met Harry Potter. Most of them had not, but they were willing to serve a Living Legend, the vanquisher of the Dark Lord during his first rampage through Magical Britain.

"The more we have, the better", Mad Eye Moody added. "That way, they won't be able to kill us all, and we'll see Potter here safely".

"Always cheery, aren't you?", the youngest member of the group said, a shockingly violet-haired young lady. She looked right out of Hogwarts.

"No one's going to die tonight", reassured Kingsley Shacklebolt.

"As I was about to say", Dumbledore called their attention to the business at hand, "Mr. Potter has been scheduled for a disciplinary hearing in three days. He is accused of underage sorcery after driving off two dementors who were attacking him and his step-brother…"

"Dementors in Little Whinging? In a muggle town?!"

Dumbledore raised both hands for silence: "Yes, and this is a wanton act indeed. Dementors are in the exclusive employ of the Ministry itself. If Voldemort's agents are acting this openly, we can no longer rely on – or trust – the Ministry. I was afraid something like this would happen. Cornelius has gotten the idea that I have been plotting against him. He has so fallen in love with his own power, that he sees plots where there are none. This has led to this situation: Voldemort's supporters inside the Ministry feel themselves able to operate in such an open manner.

"This has placed Mr. Potter in a most precarious position, as we can no longer assure his safety should he remain with his step-parents. For this reason, he needs to be brought here to Headquarters. He can stay here with his friends until the start of the next term…"

"I thought Harry wasn't attending Hogwarts?", one asked.

"After this latest incident, I am confident that Mr. Potter will be rejoining the Hogwarts family. It's the most secure place he can be, where the Order can be available on a moment's notice should any attempts be made against him. The logic is inescapable".

"We're on for tonight", the youngest announced.

"What about the Dursleys? We all know how Vernon feels about the Professor", Mad Eye said. "How can you be so certain, Nymphadora?"

"How many times do I have to tell you I hate that name? I prefer Tonks or Dora. I sent the Dursleys a letter by muggle mail on a nice, professional letterhead even, informing them that they were finalists in the All-England Best Suburban Lawn Contest. Vernon is very vain when it comes to his lawn, it's an obsession. He won't resist, and I doubt Potter will be going. The letter was delivered earlier this week, plenty of time for them to get ready".

"Very good, very clever", Dumbledore congratulated.

"We'll be evacuating Potter by broom", Mad Eye informed them. "Potter can't apparate yet, and we must assume the Floo Network is being searched for any sign of Potter. Unauthorized portkeys aren't a good idea either, as the Ministry will be alerted when they go off. We'll take an indirect route to HQ, in case anyone attempts to follow.

"Our advance guard will be: myself, of course, Tonks, Hestia Jones, Elphias Doge, Dedalus Diggle, Remus Lupin, Kingsley Shacklebolt, and Winifred Conner. We'll have a back-up, rear guard available if we need it, and spotters stationed around Little Whinging to let us know when it'll be best to go without risking being seen".

"So we're on for tonight?", Dumbledore asked.

"Unless there are any unforeseen contingencies", Moody agreed.

"What about this hearing?", Lupin asked.

"I shall be handling Harry's defense", Dumbledore said. "it's a straight forward case of use of magick for the preservation of innocent life and self defense. The Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery explicitly allows for this exception. Since the Ministry's dementors were involved, they will want to resolve the matter quickly and quietly".

 _Owlery Holt_

The _Daily Prophet'_ s headline today:

 **DUMBLEDORE'S EMBARRASSMENT**

 _During the annual meeting of the International Confederation of Wizards, Albus Dumbledore, instead of doing the Ministry's business, gave a long winded speech about his latest obsession: the alleged "rebirth" of Youknowwho. Ever since the close of the Triwizard Tournament, which was marred by the unfortunate death of Cedric Diggory in an unfortunate portkey accident, the Supreme Mugwump has become obsessed with a "vision" in which the attention seeking Harry Potter claims to have witnessed the rebirth of a man known to be dead for over ten years. Potter has claimed that it was the reincarnation of Youknowwho that was responsible for Mr. Diggory's unfortunate death._

 _It is enough that Mr. Dumbledore spreads these unfounded rumours around the Ministry of Magic. He has chosen to embarrass Minister Fudge, Magical Britain, and himself in front of an international audience with this wild tale. How this is relevant to the business of the Conference remains a mystery to us. To the credit of the Conference, a vote was held to relieve the Supreme Wugwump of his duties._

 _Minister Fudge: "It is indeed unfortunate that Mr. Dumbledore has chosen such an ignominious way to close an otherwise illustrious career. Perhaps we share some of the blame? After all, all too many of us have idolized Mr. Potter ever since the Dark Lord fell from power. It really had nothing to do with Potter, as it was his mother's sacrifice – a sacrifice any mother would choose – that caused the backfiring of the Killing Curse. I suppose it was natural, as Potter is alive while the real hero, Lily Potter, is no longer with us. Is it right to so idolize a youngster before he has the maturity to handle it? I do not blame Mr. Potter for his attention-seeking. However, I very much blame Albus Dumbledore for his self-serving exploitation of the youngster. To what end, I do not know. Is this Mr. Dumbledore's raging against the fading of his light in an attempt to relive his glory days? Is there a more sinister aim? I do know this: it is highly irresponsible to be creating discord and panic among the public at large._

" _It is my unfortunate duty to bring this matter before the Wizengamot. Mr. Dumbledore has shown he is no longer fit to serve as the Chief Warlock. Whether he will still be Headmaster of Hogwarts is up to the Board of Governors. I have launched an initiative for the improvement of educational standards at Hogwarts, starting with the upcoming term of 1 September"._

"Talk about damnation through faint praise", Harry said after reading the article. "At least they got something right for a change: all the credit goes to my mother. I've been saying that all along to anyone who bothered to listen…", he paused.

"Unforch, this will go a long way to lull the sheeple back to sleep. Fudge'll have a lot of innocent blood on his hands".

"I hope you're wrong, but I'm afraid you're right", Sirius said. "It's starting all over again, and he does nothing about it".

"We will be having our own meeting", Lucius announced.

 **0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF**

They gathered around the conference table: Lucius Malfoy, Amelia Bones, John Dawlish, Clive Williamson, Sirius Black, Harry Potter, and Susan Bones.

"Thank you for coming", Lucius Lutra began, "As you are undoubtedly aware, we are facing a serious situation, and we can expect no help from Cornelius Fudge and the Ministry in the foreseeable future. First, I would like to know who we have, who we can count on".

"If I may", Dawlish began, "my Auror Cadets are coming along. It is what they trained for, it is why they signed on to the Corps".

"Very good", Lutra said. "Congratulations to your Cadets, and your leadership".

"Thank you", he replied.

"You can count on mine as well", Williamson said.

"Excellent. Now we shall hear from Lucius".

"As you may or may not be aware, the Ministry is in total disarray", Malfoy began, "split between those who support the Minister, and those who believe Mr. Dumbledore. Percy Weasley has received a promotion to Junior Undersecretary to the Minister. This promotion, despite the reprimand he received for his negligence in the matter of Barty Crouch, senior. While it is the official position that Mr. Crouch was never under Voldemort's Imperious Curse, the official line is that he lost his mind. Mr. Weasley, being left in charge, took the power and willfully failed to report the increasingly erratic behavior of his immediate superior. This should have tarnished his reputation, and essentially ended his career, as promotions should have been a long time in coming, nor should he rise so far up the ranks of the Ministry. He should have been seen as hopelessly clueless if he failed to notice the changes in Mr. Crouch, or he should have been seen as essentially an usurper if he had and failed to report it. Percy Weasley was promoted over more deserving, more qualified candidates..."

Lucius Lutra added: "If I may interject.

"I have heard from Arthur regarding the matter. Percy came home to announce his promotion with pride. The news wasn't so well received. Arthur pointed out that Mr. Fudge probably gave him that promotion in order to learn of Dumbledore's plans. A perfectly reasonable assumption, I might add.

"Percy countered this suggestion with accusations that Arthur and his fascination with muggle technology had ruined his reputation, and that his lack of ambition led him to forego attempts to rise within the Ministry. Percy said he was ashamed to be known as a Weasley, that he was distancing himself form the rest of the family. He has since moved into a London flat. When his mother attempted to visit, Percy slammed the door in her face. Families are being torn apart over Fudge and his intransigence".

"Fudge's latest obsession is what he regards as the declining academic performance at Hogwarts", Malfoy continued. "However, this is simply an excuse to undermine Headmaster Dumbledore: his latest project instead of readying his forces and his public against Voldemort. We can count on no support from that quarter", Malfoy concluded.

"It is indeed most unfortunate that they eat their own and play their silly political games, especially during these times", Lutra said. "As for countering Voldemort, his one vulnerability..."

"One thing", Sirius spoke up, "his obsession over blood purity. That was the whole point: rally the pure blood families to dispossess those of mixed heritage".

"Even though Voldemort himself is, at best, a half-blood hypocrite", Lutra announced.

"How do you know that?", Malfoy asked, "can you prove it?"

"It's a matter of muggle record, and is beyond dispute: his father was Thomas Riddle – muggle. Any ancestral connection to Salazar Slytherin passed through his mother's side only".

"That's all well and good", Amelia said, "but how does that help?"

"We publicize his hypocrisy, and slow down his recruitment of followers", Lutra pointed out.

"The _Daily Prophet_ would never…", Williamson started.

" _The Quibbler_ would…", Dawlish said. "Xeno is always looking for a story, even if he is obsessed with his fanciful creatures, I don't think he could turn down..."

"NO! ABSOLUTELY NOT!", Harry called out. "That would put Xeno at _serious_ risk".

"Look, Potter, you are allowed at this table as a courtesy", Amelia said, "stay out of it!", she reprimanded.

"One minute…"

"OK, Harry, you have your minute", Lucius Lutra said.

"Luna's still going to Hogwarts, and will be at extreme risk. The muggles have what's called a 'vanity press'. Aspiring writers often pay a fee, up front, to have their writings published if no publisher will take a chance on them. They pay for a run of books. If we contracted with a vanity publisher, it would prevent any danger to Xeno and Luna".

"You're forgetting one thing", Dawlish said, "the Secrecy Statute".

"The muggles won't know a thing. If we did this right, they would think it's a work of pure fiction, like any other Sword 'n' Sorcery fantasy. Spread them around Diagon Alley and Hogsmeade, and those who know, will know to whom we're referring. No violation of the Secrecy Statute. Even if it were seen that way, they don't have to know who did it".

"Sounds good, but aren't you simply transferring the risk from your friend Luna to some muggle strangers?"

"They won't have to know if we change the name…", he paused to think.

"Order of the Otter", Susan Bones called out.

"OK, Potter, since you seem to know so much about it, you help us deal with the muggles", Williamson suggested.

"I can help out with illustrations", Sirius added. "I did the art work for the Map…"

"I draw pretty well", Susan added.

"We've heard the suggestions, and thank you, Harry, Susan", Lutra said, "what do you think?"

"It's brilliant", Malfoy said. "Low risk, but it really is a sharp poke in the eye for Voldemort, and a damn sight more than Fudge has given us – or Dumbledore, for that matter.

"Order of the Otter – apropos, and sticks it to Dumbledore and his do-nothing Order of the Phoenix".

"Then it's agreed: Order of the Otter, and we distribute rebuttal propaganda".

"I will get right on it", Malfoy said, "I was in the Dark Lord's inner circle and learned a thing or two about his past".

"I have already done research using the 'Net", Lutra announced. "Will contact the Grangers, as muggles, they can provide the help only muggles can. So it's decided, our propaganda campaign is shaping up".

There were no objections.

"As for the matter of Emmiline Vance?"

"We have our cadets working on the investigation", Williamson and Dawlish said. "We should have answers before too long".

"Excellent. I have news from Arthur", Lutra announced. "The Order of the Phoenix believes they are going to 'rescue' Harry from his muggle step-parents tonight".

"Day late and a Galleon short", Malfoy said. Even though it wasn't all that funny, there was some laughter around the table.

"What is even more significant", Lutra added, "is that it was Dumbledore's intention that Harry face the charges before the Wizengamot. This, I believe, to be a very bad move on his part, and makes absolutely no sense, given the facts of the case. That Fudge plans for what should be a minor matter that should be cleared up with a simple interview with Hopkirk to be presented to the full Wizengamot indicates his intentions to railroad Harry".

"Dumbledore still believes he can carry the day", Malfoy said. "As far as I'm concerned, this demonstrates just how out of touch with reality he is. He's not at the Ministry as frequently as I am; no one of any consequence will talk with him".

"Harry and I will be paying a visit to Harry's friends, the Grangers, Parkinsons, and the Lovegoods. They need to know as well. Voldemort will know who they are soon enough. He may be a lot of things, but stupid isn't one of them. We can't rule out the possibility that Voldemort won't attempt to use them to get to Harry".

"If there is nothing else?", Lucius Lutra asked…

"Then I call this a productive meeting… the first of the Order of the Otter"

 **0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF**

 _12 Grummauld Pl._

"Everyone clear on what we're supposed to do?", Mad Eye asked. He waited. "No questions? Then let's be off"

They were gathered in the back yard, broomsticks in hand. The night was a bit too clear to suit Moody, though the sliver of a setting Moon cast not enough light to give them away to curious eyes below.

"To 4 Privet Drive", they kicked off, Potter's Advance Guard.

Moody was in the lead, saying the incantation that would let them through the ward, allow them to land in the back yard. As they descended toward their objective, Tonks watched as Mad Eye collided with something unseen. He went flying in one direction, his broom in another. He landed in an adjacent backyard with a thud.

"PULL UP!", Tonks ordered, as they flew up and away to circle around to drop into the other back yard.

" _Dammit!"_ , they heard Moody call out. A dog was barking, but, so far, no indication they'd been seen. They heard the klaxon going off inside the still dark windows of the house on 4 Privet.

"What happened?", Tonks asked as she was at Moody's side. "You OK?"

"Just a bit shook up", as his eye was whirling as he pushed himself to his feet.

"What happened?", Remus asked, "I thought we could get through the wards?"

Kingsley had his wand out: "Expecto patronum", he sent a silver streak soaring over the roof tops, back towards Grimmauld Place. About a half minute later, a silver streak returned, resolving into a shimmering, shining, silvery phoenix.

"Albus", Shacklbolt said, "we have a problem. It doesn't look like Potter's here. We also can't get through the wards…"

"We ran into goblin wards", Moody added, "as formidable as any I've seen. Looks like a Gringott's job, why didn't you warn us?"

"I didn't have the goblins ward the Dursleys' place", Dumbledore said.

"Well, somebody sure did. We're stuck. Doesn't look like anyone's home. Potter must have gone with the rest of the family. He's not here", Remus added.

"Are you certain, Remus?"

"No lights in the window, no one's coming to see what set off the wards".

"Nothing more to do, then, come back to headquarters", the phoenix dissolved.

They arrived sooner than expected.

"Harry?", Molly asked.

"He wasn't there", Remus told her.

"Then where is he?", she asked.

"I don't know. Looks like he went to Tonks' bogus best lawn award ceremony. I will investigate and we'll bring him along later. I'm sure it's nothing to worry about, and these things happen", Dumbledore reassured.

"Tell me about these wards around the Dursleys?", he asked of Mad Eye.

"Like I said: goblin wards, quite formidable, the best Gringott's has to offer".

"What can you tell us, Arthur?"

"A couple of summers back, Bill visited, said he was here for a warding job. He didn't say, and we didn't ask, Gringott's confidentiality agreement, you know. I suppose he was here to ward the Dursleys?"

"While I am gratified to know of the added security, what concerns me is how Harry found out?"

"He didn't hear it from us", Arthur agreed.

"I will see Arabella later tonight, ask her to invite the Dursleys over for a discussion, hopefully persuade them to allow Harry to come here, for his own protection".

 **0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF**

Since only muggles could get through the wards, Arabella Figg presented herself at the door, soon after the Dursleys returned from church.

"May I help you?", Petunia answered the bell.

"Arabella Figg", she introduced herself.

"Harry visits you?", she knew who this was.

"Yes, he does, fine young man, spending time to keep an old lady company".

"Do come in", she invited.

"Mrs Figg", Vernon greeted her… "Dudley, say 'Hello' to Mrs Figg"

"Fine mornin' isn't it?", Dudley said.

"So what brings you here?", Vernon asked. "Missing a cat?"

"Oh no, all the kitties are fine. It's just that I would like to invite you over to meet someone".

"And who might that be, and why didn't your guest come with you?"

"There's a problem with that: he can't get past your wards…"

" _You_ know about that?!"

"Like your wife, I am a squib. It's Albus Dumbledore: he wants a word…"

"I'll give him a word…"

"Vernon, Dear, it won't hurt to see what he has to say".

"I don't see what good it does… Harry's _not_ going back to Hogwarts…"

"He wants to discuss Harry and his protection from Youknowwho".

They went farther down the cul-de-sac, to Number 11.

"Thank you for coming", Dumbledore greeted. "May I serve you a drink?"

As the Dursleys settled onto the sofa, Dumbledore took out his wand and conjured a cut crystal decanter, and crystal goblets for everyone. The decanter tipped, filing the goblets, which floated over to everyone.

"Madam Rosemerta's finest oak cask aged meade", he explained.

"Never had meade before", Dudley said before taking a sip. "It's good. What is it?"

"Honey wine", Dumbledore explained, "Madam Rosemerta makes it herself to serve in the Three Broomsticks".

"Harry wrote us about that place, main watering hole for Hogwarts students?", Petunia added.

"The very same", Dumbledore said. "Although I suspect Harry was breaking the rules if he knows the Three Broomsticks. Only third year students and up are allowed to visit Hogsmeade".

"OK, you got us here, now what do you want?", Vernon asked.

"I understand Harry isn't home?"

"We… don't know where he is", Petunia admitted.

"Has something happened?", Dumbledore asked.

"Yes, it sure has Dumbledore", Vernon began.

"Be nice, Dear", Petunia said.

"Harry was attacked by these dementors of yours, and no thanks to you or that lousy Ministry of yours, Harry came very close to a very bad end. While that may be your business, these dementors of yours also attacked Dudley, and he has no part in any of this. Even though we did our best to separate Harry from you, your Ministry, and your _fucked up_ excuse for a school, you _still_ endanger his life".

"I understand I haven't fully earned your trust…"

Vernon raised his glass: "Raise your glasses in salute to the greatest understatement of the century!", he said with heavy sarcasm.

"I am leading a secret society dedicated to opposing the return to power of Lord Voldemort. We have the resources, resources beyond your comprehension, to see that no harm comes to Harry. But, in order for us to protect him, we need to evacuate him to our headquarters".

"Resources like that Fletcher character who fled when Harry needed him the most? I am not reassured by that Dumbledore…"

"I am as dismayed over his conduct as you are. Mr. Fletcher has been a full member ever since the last war, and should have been as capable as any member…"

"Not much of a judge of character, are you?", Vernon complained.

"We have no idea where Harry is", Petunia said, "however, we know he is safe".

"If you don't know where he is, how can you be so sure?"

"Look, Dumbledore, WE. DON'T. KNOW. Even if I did, I _sure_ wouldn't tell _you._ I wouldn't turn him over to you. This conversation is over… Tunie? Dudley?"

He finished off his meade: "Thanks for the drink. We'll be on our way"

"What now, Albus?", Arabella asked after they'd left.

"I… honestly don't know", Dumbledore said in resignation.

 _12 Grimmauld Pl._

The Weasley kids noticed a flurry of activity. People in and out, at all hours of the day and night. Yet another meeting they would not be allowed to attend.

"I went along with Dumbledore's being the leader of a renewed Order of the Phoenix, but I am questioning this decision. Albus, you have lost both the leadership of the International Conference, and been voted out of being Chief Warlock…", Mad Eye Moody was making his case against Albus.

"I will become concerned when I lose my Chocolate Frog card…", Dumbledore said.

"This is no joke, Albus, you lost us Potter! If he doesn't show tomorrow, he becomes a fugitive. I question your judgment, giving Mundungus Fletcher that much responsibility. We have _no_ idea where Potter is, for all we know, Voldemort's grabbed him…"

"I believe we need to consider another possibility", Dumbledore said, "we are not alone in our opposition to Voldemort".

"Upon what do you base that assumption?"

"When I met with the Dursleys, I used a gentle application of Legilimancy. As Petunia is still Lily's sister, it is likely she inherited some magical abilities. Most squibs do, so I had to be very careful. Vernon and Dudley – likely Petunia as well – knew where Harry went, and with whom. They have had their memories modified, so all they remember is that Harry is in good hands. But since he isn't in our hands, or Voldemort's, then someone the Dursleys trust", Albus explained.

"Who?"

"They have Sirius Black, and of course, Harry Potter".

"If they have Harry, then they have Harry's friends, certainly Hermione Granger, and likely Pansy Parkinson", Remus added.

"The Malfoys are somehow involved…"

"You're as _mad_ as he is! _Arthur!_ ", Moody raged. "There was no fiercer supporter than Malfoy! For _Merlin's_ sake, Bellatrix is his sister-in-law…"

"I happen to know that Malfoy was instrumental in getting Sirius' case reopened", Arthur raised his voice to cut Mad Eye off. "Lucius lobbied Fudge _himself;_ I heard him doing just that. It's all over the Ministry's rumour mill. He even made a sizable 'donation' to St Mungos, and it's an open secret that that involves kickbacks to Fudge himself…"

"Potter is friendly with Draco…", Moody objected.

"Then he was investigated by the Wizengamot, and he does not have Voldemort's Dark Mark…"

"And Death Eaters persisted in naming him…"

"And, you, Alistair", Snape drawled, "pointed out that some spots never come out. Have you changed your mind?"

"Why is it so hard to believe that the Malfoys have left the Dark Side?", Arthur said.

"Good _Merlin_ man! You were there! You saw! Even if we accept Malfoy's persistent claims he was under the Imperious, the Imperious doesn't prevent your knowing _everything_ you did! If he's with the Light, then why in the _HELL_ hasn't he come forward?! He can't be held responsible for anything he did under the Imperious, so no risk to him for telling us everything he did! Instead, he's spent ten years denying he did _anything!_ I wouldn't put it past him from pretending to be on Potter's side to take him _straight_ to his Dark Lord! Getting his godfather's case reopened would fit right in! Once a Death Eater, _always_ a Death Eater!"

"Let us set aside that question for now", Dumbledore suggested, "but let us keep our minds open to the possibility. Who else might they have?"

"I'd guess Amelia Bones", Tonks suggested. "Neither she, nor her niece have been seen since the attack at Bones Manor".

"It's well known many of Voldemort's victims disappeared without a trace", Moody pointed out.

"It's a possibility", she reminded, "but Amelia Bones wouldn't go down that easily, especially not when Susan is concerned".

"No, no she wouldn't", Moody conceded. "If these people are going underground, then how do we contact them? Wouldn't it make sense for us to join forces?"

"Indeed, it would", Dumbledore agreed.

 _London: Ministry of Magic_

Arthur's office was up on the second floor, to reach it, he walked through heavy oak doors into an open area divided into cubicles. Above one, was a sign: Auror Headquarters. Memos shot between cubicles like miniature rockets. The walls of the aurors' cubicles were covered with wanted posters, and some, with posters of favorite Quiddich teams.

Kingsley Shacklebolt called out: "Mornin' Weasley, got a sec?"

"If it really is a second".

Sirius Black's face smiled down from nearly every poster covering the walls of his cubical. Newspaper clippings and old photographs, even the one of Sirius as best man at the Potters' wedding. The only thing not Sirius pictures was a world map with red pins stuck in it.

"I'll be needing a report of every sighting of flying muggle vehicles during the last twelve months", he explained, "we have reason to believe Black's using his old motorcycle"

He said as he handed over a thick stack of reports.

They spoke as if they barely knew each other, just passing acquaintances.

"You'll have to wait a bit", Arthur explained, "prior commitments, you understand"

"Well, don't take too long. That delay on the firelegs report held up an investigation for a month".

"If you'd actually read the report, you would know the term is 'firearms'", Kingsley, like all too many magi, were absolutely clueless about any and all muggle technologies. If he couldn't even get that right, it was no wonder his office was always several dozen steps behind the technomages. Just another sign of just how incompetent the Ministry actually was. No one suspected that Arthur was damn near a technomage himself.

"Molly's making meatballs for tonight, if you can get away by 7:00", he said in a very low voice.

"Don't keep us waiting too long, Weasley", Kingsley reprimanded.

"Where's Potter?", Kingsley whispered back.

"Not comin'"

"I'll have it ready by this evening, just a matter of regurgitating toilets to clear up, shouldn't take too long".

"See you tonight".

Arthur proceeded out by a different set of oak doors, into a rather dim, shabby corridor that was a dead end. Off to the left, a broom closet, and to the right, a door with a tarnished brass sign: Misuse of Muggle Artifacts.

The office wasn't much larger than the closet. Barely room for two desks shoved together, and barely enough room to maneuver between the desks and filing cabinets that overflowed, folders piled on top of the cabinets. He was early, and settled behind his desk, a photo of his family next to the inbox. Percy was hiding behind the frame, he saw. Even the damn photographs kept reminding of the schism within the family.

An old, stooped wizard with white hair came panting in:

"Oh Arthur!", he said. "I didn't know what was for the best, come here or not…", he paused to catch his breathe. "Urgent message…"

"I know about the regurgitating toilet…"

"It's not that. I sent an owl, but obviously you missed it. The Potter boy's hearing has been rescheduled for 8:00, in old Courttoom Ten"

"For the love of Merlin! That was five minutes ago! Cover for me".

That meant a trip to the lowest level the lifts served, then down a flight of stairs. That meant two things: the "minor" matter of a hearing would be a full dress trial before the whole Wizemgamot, and that they were deliberately trying to make Potter late to create a bad impression.

Arthur stood just outside, swallowed hard, took a deep breathe and turned the large iron handle.

A cold male voice called out: "You're…", before realizing it wasn't who they were expecting.

"Forgive me, Mr. Minister…"

"Who're you?"

"Arthur… Arthur Weasley, Sir".

"Why are you here? Where's Potter?"

"That's what I came to tell you, he's not coming".

"Not coming?", said a strange woman seated to Fudge's right. "Whatever do you mean, not coming?", in a faux pleasant voice.

"Harry Potter disappeared without a trace a week ago", Arthur explained.

"I see", Fudge said. "Thank you for not letting us waste even more time, Arthur. I'm issuing a bench warrant for the apprehension of Harry Potter", he declared. "The Wizengamot is adjourned".

Dumbledore was there as the rest of the Wizengamot filed out, grumbling about their wasted time.

"No good", Arthur explained, "Harry didn't show. He's done a runner".

"I was afraid of that, Arthur. This just hands Fudge more provocation to discredit Harry and by extension, the Order. I could have cleared up this matter".

"That's assuming Fudge would let you".

"It was a chance well worth taking, Arthur. This makes our job all that much more difficult. Fudge has been discrediting Harry all summer. I fear this plays right into his hands"

"I wonder what they're saying", Arthur pointed out Lucius Malfoy and Cornelius having a quite conversation.

The next day, the Daily Prophet told all about it

 _Harry Potter: Fugitive from Justice_

 _Harry Potter failed to appear for a disciplinary hearing before the Wizengamot to answer charges of performing underage sorcery in a muggle area, and in the presence of a muggle: his step-brother: Dudley Dursley._

 _Malfalda Hopkirk: "My office extended Potter the courtesy of not immediately confiscating his wand at the behest of Albus Dumbledore, who assured me personally that Mr. Potter was innocent on the basis of self defense. He further assured that Mr. Potter would attend his hearing. I feel as though I was played for a fool, and regret very much that we didn't follow protocol and confiscate his wand that very evening"._

 _Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic: "Potter, once again, demonstrates his belief that rules and laws do not apply to the Boy Who Lived. It is unfortunate that his former Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore chose to indulge the boy by overlooking numerous violations of Hogwarts Code of Student Conduct. If he had disciplined the boy as he should have, we could have avoided this situation._

" _Undoubtedly, Potter was showing off for his brother, demonstrating that he could cast the Patronus Charm. As you well know, this is advanced magic beyond a third year student. It would seem he could not resist the urge to show off. This he did, despite knowing that performing magic outside of school is prohibited. Undoubtedly, Potter did not take seriously his summons to appear before the Wizengamot, that he could openly demonstrate his contempt for the law without consequence. Perhaps he believes he can join his godfather, the escapee from Azkaban as a fugitive. I can assure the public, these two can run, but they can not hide forever. We will catch them, and when we do, Mr. Potter is in for a rude awakening"._

 _We here at the Daily Prophet regret that the fame of being the Boy Who Lived has gone so far to his head. We encourage Mr. Potter to turn himself in before he makes this any more difficult for himself. We hope that whatever the consequences, they are a wake-up call._

 _Owlery Holt_

Harry was accosted by a bushy-haired missile that nearly took him off his feet. "Harry!", as he was in a rib cracking embrace.

"Thank you for coming", Lucius said to Ted and Marilyn Granger.

"Hermione!", Harry said, "Been too long, never thought I'd see you again".

"Weird boarding schools, Dark Lords and talking otters", Ted began, "why am I not surprised anymore? Are you sure, I mean, is Hermione in any danger?"

"Not any more", Lucius reassured. "We can use your help".

"How? We're not magical, what can we do?"

"A lot, actually, if you'll permit me to explain", Lucius pulled out some papers. "This is an article I pulled from news archives. The story concerns the closing of Wool's Orphanage. There's even a picture of the place here.

"I have also recovered some names of people who'd been through, and I would very much appreciate if you could interview them, ask them of their memories of one of their companions, a Thomas Marvolo Riddle. The more accurate we can make our story, the better.

"I am also preparing emergency portkeys that all of you can use in case you need to make a quick get-away, they'll transport you straight here. We will do our best to keep your names out of it, but I'm not one to assume anything".

"Is this Voldemort character that bad?"

"I'm afraid he is".

"Then why didn't we hear anything?"

"You weren't suppose to, at least not the real reasons behind the attacks, the weird murders, the freak accidents. We do not want anything like this happening again".

Susan and Sirius were busy with illustrations: an accurate rendering of the old Wool's Orphanage. Hermione got busy with editing the text.

Over the next few says, Ted and Marilyn contacted some of the names they'd been given. Bill Stubbs agreed to discuss:

"Haven't thought about Wool's in years", he said, "I guess they're not in business anymore? Haven't gotten a begging letter in years. So what did you want to know?"

"About Tom Riddle, he was there when you were".

"I remember him, how could I forget? I figured he'd be doing life by now, nasty piece of work".

"How do you mean?", Ted asked.

"I had an argument with him over something – I don't remember – anyway, two days later he killed my pet rabbit. We found him hanging by the neck from a high rafter. Of course, no one could figure how he got up there without flying, but he did it. Just because Mrs. Cole couldn't figure it out doesn't mean he didn't do it. He was always pulling stunts like that, but no one could ever prove anything, but we all knew.

"Then there was the picnic. Wool's didn't have a lot of money, you understand, but Mrs. Cole, bless her, she did her best to make things nice. We had this seaside picnic, so we could get out, see the sea for the first time. Of course, Riddle ruined it, just like he always did".

"What did he do?"

"We were all supposed to stay together, not go wandering off. Riddle convinced a couple of kids… let's see… an Amy… Something, can't remember her last name, anyway, he talked them into 'exploring'. They found this cave, it was low tide, and I doubt they would have seen it otherwise. She said something happened in that cave".

"She say what?"

"She could never bring herself to say, but she was never the same since. Once again, Riddle got away with it because the other two kids would never say what happened. No evidence, so he never got punished for it. He never did. I think even Mrs. Cole was afraid of him".

"So I guess he wasn't too popular".

"That's an understatement, born criminal, Tom Riddle was. When he was about ten… maybe eleven… he got some sort of scholarship. Believe me, no one was sorry to see him go… though I pity the kids who went to this special school they took him to. Hope it was a reform school, or a psychiatric facility. Figured he'd grow up and probably kill someone… he was that type, always thinking he was better than anyone else, that rules were for everyone but him".

"Thanks for your time".

"Say, what _did_ become of Riddle?"

"You don't want to know".

"That bad, huh?"

"That bad".

The "Amy" Mr. Stubbs mentioned was Amy Benson now.

"What's your interest in Wool's? They closed down back in the sixties".

"One of my geology students is Tom Riddle's son…"

"He got married? He has a son?"

"Does that surprise you?"

"You bet it does. He was so irresponsible and horrible to everyone. So what's this about?"

"Teddy Riddle mentioned a cave his father had discovered during an outing. We're looking to map it".

"If you have a map…"

Marilyn produced one just for this occasion.

"Here", she marked the location.

"Are you sure?"

"I'll never forget that cave. It's visible only at low tide, so you need to be careful going in there".

"What was it like?"

"Dark, dank, we did see this vast underground lake. You couldn't see the other side. Couldn't tell how deep, it could have been inches or a hundred feet, you couldn't tell. I'd forget it, stay well away. You don't want to go down there".

"I see. Thank you for your time".

 **0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF**

 _12 Grimmauld Pl._

The summer break was winding down fast, the Express would leave day after tomorrow, Molly off to Diagon Alley to buy the kids' books. Fortunately, this year, they required just two: _The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 4_ by Miranda Goshawk, and _Defensive Magical Theory_ by Wilbert Slinkhard – someone they'd never heard of before.

"Guess this means Dumbledore finally found a new DADA prof", George said.

"Heard Mum and Dad a few weeks ago over the Extensible Ears", Fred explained, "they were saying Dumbledore was having difficulty finding anyone willing to teach it this year".

"How do you mean?", Ginny asked.

"Not too hard to figure", Ron told his sister, "one dead, one sacked for gross incompetence, and the last attacked, impersonated, and locked in his trunk". He counted them off on his fingers.

"Oh?", she said. "Hope whoever it is, is better than Lockhart…"

"And doesn't have Youknowwho's face sticking out the back of his head…"

"Or lets little girls get the drop on him", Fred reminded.

"Moody was pretty good", Ron said.

"Good… and strange. Who else but someone named 'Mad Eye' would put his students under the Imperious so's we'd know how it felt", George said.

"At least it wasn't the Avada Kadavra", Fred reminded.

"Or the Cruciatus", George added.

"That too… oh, by the way, we haven't shown you what Mundungus brought us".

Fred pulled out of his pocket what looked like shriveled, dried-up, old black seed pods. There was a faint rattling noise coming from them, though they weren't moving. Venomous Tentacula seeds. We need 'em for the Skiving Snack Boxes", he began…

"But they're a Class C Non-tradable Substance, so we've been having a hard time getting them".

"Isn't that illegal", Ginny asked.

"Why we needed 'Dung, he's good at that sort of thing…", Fred was explaining.

"...Wanted 20 Galleons, but we talked him down to 10", George said. "Insisted on not a Knewt less…"

"Pointing out Mad Eye could see through pockets convinced him", Fred finished that thought.

"If Mother finds out…", Ginny didn't need to explain farther. "So what are Skiving Snack Boxes?"

"New line for the shop. Each an assortment of 'treats' (finger quotes) if you want out of class. Just eat one end, and you'll get sick enough to be excused from class. We have Puking Pustules, Nosebleed Nougats, and Feinting Fizzies. Once out the door, the opposite end is an antidote so you're feeling as good as new. Free hour to do what you like!"

"Hell'd you get ten Galleons?", Ron asked.

"Never you mind, little brother", Fred said.

"We have an investor", George said…

"Oh c'mon! I saw that! I think we can trust him. If you can't trust family, who can you trust?"

"So who is it?", Ron asked.

"He wants to remain anonymous – a silent partner", George explained.

After a supper of fried chicken, the kids were sent to their rooms, the adults to the drawing room, as more were arriving.

"I said we were not alone", Dumbledore started the latest meeting of the Order of the Phoenix, "and now, we have confirmation".

Molly handed out something, a booklet of some sort. It was she who first saw them at Flourish and Blotts when she went to pick up this year's required texts. They were in a newsrack with a sign: "Free! Take One!" The proprietor couldn't say who brought them, just that they were there, waiting, when he opened the shop. The rack magically replenished itself.

"These have been turning up in Diagon Alley, Hogsmeade, Godric's Hollow, Ottery St Catchpole, Tinsworth… any where magi might be found", Lupin was explaining.

They looked at the cover: _A Tale of Two Toms_. Inside, were drawings that did not move, but the first depicted some place called "Wool's Orphanage". More illustrations of a rabbit hanging from a rafter, children at the entrance to a foreboding seaside cave below the cliffs. Descriptions of a very bad boy who talked to snakes. An older man looking a lot like a younger Dumbledore who was sitting with a child in an institutional room. Scenes of the boy at a magical school that was a castle, waving a wand, doing magick.

More depictions of the House on the Hill that was obviously the Riddle home in Little Hangleton. This Tom, Tom the Muggle, a dandy riding in a fox hunt, and doing other muggle things. A wedding between the wealthy muggle and a poor young lady in stereotypical witch's attire. The woman, abandoned at an orphanage.

Later, a charismatic figure railing, threatening, mudbloods and muggle-born, though he was actually a half-blood. He was referred to as "Tom the Hypocrite". There was a picture of a cottage with half the upper story blown off and a rat with a wand in his teeth fleeing the scene. A description of how Tom the Hypocrite tried to murder an innocent child.

Most of the artwork was cartoony, like illustrations for the picture books given to muggle children.

"Who made this?", Dedalus Diggle asked.

"It's right there on the inside cover: 'Courtesy of the Order of the Otter'. This was printed by muggles", Arthur pointed out. "Or they are using a muggle printing press, which would account for the still pictures".

"Who the _HELL_ is the Order of the Otter?! Where did they _get_ this information?", Moody called out.

"Is there anything to this?", Sturgis Podmore asked.

"I do not know any more than you do", Dumbledore confessed, "I don't know who they could be, but I can assure you, it's quite accurate. I well remember meeting Tom Riddle in Wool's when I invited him to Hogwarts. I heard the story of the rabbit from Mrs. Cole herself".

" _HOW_ do they know?! _WHOARETHEY?!",_ Moody called out.

"Some of this artwork, looks like Sirius'", Lupin said. "He did the artwork for the Marauder's Map…"

"So that's what it's called?", Moody said. "I took a map from Potter that shows everyone in Hogwarts".

"That's it, I gave it to him during his first year. You open it with the spell: 'I solemnly swear I am up to no good' and close it with: 'Mischief managed'. Sirius drew it.

"If they have Sirius, then they have Potter", Lupin explained.

"That's assuming it is Sirius", Tonks pointed out.

"I'm pretty sure it is. Where ever he is, you can be sure Harry's there too, and he's all right".

"I hope you're right", Elphias Doge said.

Moody stood as he slammed his copy of _A Tale of Two Toms_ on the table top: "Ever since Potter left that maze, we have been holding meetings and dithering, while this Order of the Otter has been doing something! _We_ should have done this!"

"Then we should find out who they are, contact them, and join forces", someone called out.

"Riiiiight", Moody replied sarcastically, "they've been _two_ steps ahead of us the whole way. How, _exactly,_ do you propose to do that?"

"One thing's for certain, when Youknowwho sees this, he's gonna be pist", Tonks said.


	38. The Insiders

**The Insiders**

Before the new term was due to start on the First, Lucius met with Draco and Luna, and Lucius and Xeno.

"So what are we doing?", Draco asked.

"Keep an eye on the kids. Keep them safe, and us informed in case Dumbledore does something foolish again".

"How do we communicate?"

"Owls"

"I thought you said Hogwarts' owls were compromised?", Luna asked.

"That's a safe assumption, I agree. You won't be owling in the clear…"

"Codes then?", he objected, "there are spells…"

"As with everything else, the Wizarding World stopped in the Middle Ages. What you are referring to, Draco, are _cyphers._ As you pointed out, cyphers are easily broken. You, however, will be using one time pads. It's extremely low tech, but effective. No spell will crack a one time pad".

Lucius handed over a small booklet of pages stapled together. Nothing but column after column of five digit numbers.

"Here's how you work it: all the numbers you see there are random, no patterns, which is what makes this impossible to crack. I have the duplicates here, so begin your messages with your first name. What you do is number the letters: A is one, B is two, C – three, D – four, etc, etc, etc. Write out your message, and number all the letters. Take those letters and add them to the numbers on your pad, starting with the left hand column, and working your way down. Send the new numbers off as an owlpost, and I'll know what you've written. After you've done that, tear off the page with the numbers you just used and get rid of it. If our owls are intercepted, it won't make any difference, it's just numbers. If questioned, just tell 'em it has something to do with Arithmancy.

"It would be nicer if we had more insiders, but I don't see how Hermione will ever go back, and Ginny knows too much as it is.

"Keep it short and sweet, don't be sending me essays, and your pads should last a good long while. Any questions?"

There were none.

"Then off to Hogwarts, and good luck".

"Guess you'll be back at Beaux Batons?", Harry said to Hermione.

"All things considered, I highly doubt Mum and Dad will disagree. See you over Christmas break".

"Be lookin' forward to it. Give Madam Maxime my regards".

"Will do".

Lucius apparated the Grangers back to Surry.

 _12 Grimmauld Pl._

Ron woke up to pure pandemonium: "C'mon! Get your ass in gear!", it was Fred and George. "Mum's going ballistic, 'fraid we'll miss the train!"

It wasn't easy, getting four kids co-ordinated.

"Awwight, 'comin'"

"RON! DOWN HERE RIGHT NOW!"

"COMING!", he called back.

Arthur was waiting at the curb beside his Anglia. They had to wait until he gave the "all-clear", lest the neighbors see Molly and her brood seemingly materialize out of nowhere. They packed their trunks into what would have looked like a too small boot. Inside, there was more than enough room for everyone.

"Why don't we try that flying feature?", Fred asked.

"Absolutely not!", Molly said, "and don't you even _think_ about it", she said to her husband.

"Yes, Dear", he said.

They parked at King's Cross, unloaded, and made their way to Platform 9.75. The Weasley kids recognized Lucius, Narcissa, and Draco, but none came over to say a word. Luna and Xeno were also there, as was Neville and Madam Longbottom.

"Another year", Madam Longbottom said. "OWLs this year for you two", she said to Fred and George. "How time does fly".

"It certainly does", they agreed.

"So you guys ready?", Neville asked.

"I suppose", Ron said.

"Sure thing", Ginny told him.

"So how was your summer?", Neville asked.

"Don't ask", Ron told him. He wanted nothing more to complain about how much it sucked, spending the bulk of his time cleaning up that old house, and being rewarded for it by being cut out of all the Order of the Phoenix meetings. That would, however, lead to an unpleasant scene.

"We have big plans for this year", Fred and George said with a sly wink.

"I hope you're planning on getting as many OWLs as you can", Molly interjected. "The more you have, the better for your future!"

"ALL ABOARD! ALL ABOARD!", the conductor called out. Many hurried good-bye's. This spared Fred and George another argument with their mother. Fred, George and Ginny settled in with Luna. Another long ride to Hogwarts, and Fred and George were wishing they'd taken the flying Anglia.

"What'cha got there?", Fred asked of Luna who had a magazine that she was holding upside down. "Can I have a look?"

"Sure, but give it back, I'm not through".

The article she was reading was about a spell that supposedly turned the target's ears into kumquats, but it was written in runes. The article said it made sense only if read upside down, which explained why she was doing something so strange, but Luna was always doing strange things.

"Article about Sirius here", Fred announced.

"Harry's godfather?", Ginny asked.

 **SIRIUS BLACK: VILLAIN OR VICTIM?**

 **Sirius: Black as he's painted or innocent singing sensation?**

 _Almost fifteen years ago, Sirius Black was sent to Azkaban without a trial for the murders of twelve muggles and one wizard. Recently, Black made a daring escape from the wizarding prison, and has been the target of the largest man hunt the Ministry has ever conducted. Few have ever doubted that he deserves to be caught, and turned over to the dementors._

 _BUT DOES HE?_

 _Startling new evidence has just come to light that Sirius Black may not have committed the crimes of which he was accused. Doris Purkiss:_

" _What people don't realize is that Sirius Black is really KitsuNoir, front man of The Furries. I can attest to the fact that, during the time of the crimes, we were sharing a candle light dinner. I have sent a letter to the Ministry explaining this, and I'm expecting they'll announce a pardon any day now"._

 _The Furries perform as animals. According to Purkiss: "They don't wish to be recognized out in public as they don't want to become prisoners of their fame"._

He flicked back a few pages to the article about Fudge:

 _Cornelius Fudge has long insisted that he wants friendly relations with the guardians of our gold, the goblins of Gringott's._

 _BUT DOES HE?_

 _Ministry insiders tell us that he wants to get his hands on the goblins' gold supply, and would like nothing better than to turn Gringott's over to wizarding control._

" _Yes, I know what he says in public, but it's a different story when he thinks no one is listening. Cornelius – Goblin Crusher – Fudge, that's what his closest friends call him in private, will resort to force to get what he wants. He has had goblins drowned, poisoned, thrown off skyscrapers, and even baked into pies"._

There were accusations that the Tutshill Tornados were first in their Quiddich league due to a combination of blackmail, broom tampering, and torture. Another feature was an interview with a wizard who claimed he flew a Cleansweep Six to the Moon, and returned with a sack-full of lunar frogs to prove it.

"What else would you expect from _The Quibbler?_ ", Ginny asked. "It's pure rubbish. How can you read that bullshit?"

"Excuse me", Luna protested, "my father's the publisher. May I have my magazine back?"

"I… ummmmm… didn't mean anything by it… There are some… interesting things in there…", Ginny said, embarrassed.

"Say, see what I got?", Neville asked as he dropped by for a visit.

He was showing off something that looked decidedly uninteresting: a potted "cactus", though it was gray-green and covered with what looked like boils instead of thorns. They all understood Neville and his plants.

"So what do you call that?", Ginny asked.

" _Mimbulus mimbletonia"_ , he said, "they're really quite rare. "My uncle Algie picked it up for me during a business trip to Syria. I doubt Hogwarts has one in the green houses, so Professor Sprout should be interested. I'm planning on seeing if I can breed it".

Ron looked on, not impressed. He did notice that it was pulsating slightly.

"So what do you do with it?", he asked.

"It has a really amazing defense mechanism", Neville was explaining while going through his book bag. He pulled out a quill.

"Let's see…", he said as he prodded the plant with the tip of the quill.

The strange plant shot forth from every "boil", a dark green slimy substance that splattered the windows, ceiling, got all over Luna's _Quibbler_ – an amazing amount considering the size of the plant. The substance smelled like rancid manure.

"YUCK!", Fred and George called out as they were hit with the mess.

"Sorry, never actually tried that before", Neville apologized. "Don't worry, it smells a lot worse than it is. Stinksap isn't toxic", he explained.

"Just don't do it again", Ginny said as she cast the "Scourgify" spell that cleaned up the mess.

"Thoroughly disgusting!", Ron said.

"You asked for it", Fred and George reminded. "Be careful what you wish for, you just might get it".

The weather wasn't co-operating as the rain made the scenery difficult to watch. They all hoped it would break by the time they arrived at Hogwarts. They reconsidered that the _Quibbler_ wasn't so bad after all.

 **0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF**

The first shock was their arrival at the Hogsmeade station.

"Firsties over here! Firsties over here!", but it wasn't Hagrid calling the Firsties over, but rather Professor Grubbly-Planc who taught part of Hagrid's class last year.

"Where's Hagrid?", Ron asked.

"Dunnow", Ginny told him, but we'd best get moving, we're blocking the door".

"Oh yeah", he replied as he moved forward toward the carriages the second year and up students took.

"Oh well", Luna said, "he wasn't all that great a teacher".

"Was too!", Ron, Fred and George challenged.

"He's kind of a joke in Ravenclaw", Ginny explained. "It's easy to see why he's so popular, being he's an easy 'O' and wants to make Care more fun than informative".

"You're getting to be a regular dorkette", Ron complained, "Ravenclaw's been rubbing off on you. Don't see why you couldn't get into Gryffindor".

Ginny thought it best to let that pass. After all, Ron got few 'O's', and Care of Magical Creatures was one of them so long as Hagrid ran the class.

"I'd still like to know what happened to Hagrid", he said as the carriage made its way to the castle. "He couldn't've left… could he?"

"Probably still working on that summer project the Professor assigned him", Ginny explained.

"How hard could that be?"

"No idea, but it's a possibility. Don't worry about it; I'm sure he'll be back", Ginny reassured.

"Wouldn't leave Hogwarts without at least saying 'Goodbye'", Fred pointed out. Fred, Ron, George, Ginny and Neville all piled into one of the carriages that Luna insisted were pulled by these skin and bones, skeletal, black, winged horses with silver eyes. They saw nothing of the sort.

Luna went with the other Slytherin outcasts: Draco, Pansy, Blaise, and Millicent. Their arrival was on one of the nastiest early fall evenings they could recall. The sky gloomy with clouds that threatened a down pour any second now… an uncharacteristic chill in the air that they all hoped wasn't a portent of an especially lousy winter.

As they passed through the gate, with its winged boars as decorations atop the stone pillars, the grounds were in almost complete darkness. No sign of any lights from the Game Keeper's cabin, the castle appearing against the sky, with a window here and there glowing brightly. The carriages pulled up by the main entrance and students climbed the stone stairs, feet clip-clopping on the flag stone floor as everyone made their way into the Great Hall for another Welcome Feast.

The members of the various Houses took their places, the room abuzz with conversation about comparing summers, and speculation as to what new staff would be, especially DADA, which had yet to have a single professor serve for more than one term. Sure enough, there were, not one, but two new faces at the long staff table. One, looking like a maiden aunt, was deep in conversation with the Headmaster. He, in his midnight blue dress robes with sliver stars and a matching hat. The new arrival squat, with short, mouse brown hair with a hideous Alice band stuck in her hair that matched the fuzzy pink cardigan she wore over her robes.

That Professor Grubbly-Planc took the place where Hagrid usually sat meant the Firsties had arrived. Seconds later, the doors opened and Professor McGonagall led the procession forward to the front of the Hall. She had the Sorting Hat and stool, which she placed in front of the line of Firsties. One small boy in the middle looked to faint any second now…

The Hat began its customary song:

 _In times of old when I was new  
_ _And Hogwarts barely started  
_ _The Founders of our noble school  
_ _Thought to be never parted…_

This time, the Hat was unusually long-winded. Most ceased paying much attention, as they'd heard it all before: the reiteration of each Founder's history and aims for a magical school, the descriptions of the characters of the Houses. It wasn't until the end that caught everyone's attention:

 _Listen closely to my song:  
_ _Though condemned I am to split you.  
_ _Still I worry that it is wrong.  
_ _Though I must fulfill my duty to  
_ _Quarter every year, still I wonder if  
_ _Sorting won't bring the end I fear  
_ _O know the perils, read the signs  
_ _The warning history shows  
_ _For our Hogwarts is in danger  
_ _From external, deadly foes.  
_ _We must unite inside Her.  
_ _Or crumble from within.  
_ _I have told you; I have warned you.  
_ _Now let the Sorting begin._

"Anyone remember the Hat's giving out warnings?", Neville asked.

"It happens occasionally", Nearly Headless Nick, the Gryffindor house ghost said, "usually during times it believes to be especially perilous..."

This had never happened before in their memories, and there was much whispered conversation until McGonagall took out a long parchment and gave everyone a look that scorches. Nearly Headless Nick put finger to lips as the room quieted down.

"Abercombie, Euan", she called out. That boy who looked like he was going to feint any second now came forward. Only his over large ears prevented the Hat from dropping completely over his head. It pondered for a moment:

"GRYFFINDOR!", it called out.

The Gryffindors waved the new boy over to their table. He was quite shy, looking like he'd like nothing better than to melt into the floor, never to be seen again. The line thinned, but not fast enough to suit Ron.

Finally, Rose Zeller was sorted into Hufflepuff, and McGonagall took the stool and Hat back to the Headmaster's office for another year. Dumbledore rose from his guilded chair:

"To our newcomers", he announced with arms spread wide, "welcome! To our old hands – welcome back! There is a time and place for speeches, but that time is not now, and that place isn't here. Tuck in!"

There was applause and laughter, as the food arrived in quantities that almost made the tables groan under the weight of joints and platters and plates of vegetables, and pies and sauces and flagons of pumpkin juice. Ron grabbed the closest platter of chops and piled his plate high.

"What were you saying about the Hat and warnings?", Neville asked.

"Yes, indeed", Nearly Headless Nick explained, "there have been times when the Hat believed Hogwarts was in danger and has issued warnings. Its advice is always the same: stay strong and stay united".

"Ow kunnit nofe skusin danger ifzat?", Ron said with his mouth stuffed with chops and roast potatos. Potato spraying down the front of his robes.

"Best not to look", Pansy warned from the Slytherin side directly opposite the Gryffindor table. "I see the Weasleys have _yet_ to teach him some table manners".

"I don't know who's the bigger slob", Luna said, "Ron or that Durmstrang boy, remember him?"

"Yes, much as I'd like to forget", Draco said.

"I beg your pardon?", Nearly Headless Nick said.

Ron somehow managed to choke down his mouthful: "How can it know if the school is in danger if it's a Hat?"

"Well, I suppose it hears things, as it lives in Dumbledore's office and has a whole year to think about what it hears up there".

"And it wants all the Houses to be friends?", Ron cast a look across the Hall. "Fat chance", he said as he glared at the Slytherins.

"You shouldn't take that attitude", Nick said. "Peaceful co-existence: that's the key. We ghosts are from different Houses too. Despite the rivalry between Gryffindor and Slytherin, I would never seek out to start an argument with the Bloody Baron…"

"Only because you're afraid of him", Ron protested.

"Afraid? I would hope that I, Sir Nicholas de Mimsey-Porpington, has never been guilty of cowardice in my life! The noble blood that runs through my veins…"

"What blood? What veins?", Ron said.

"It's a figure of speech, you dolt! Even though I am denied the pleasures of food and drink, I would hope that I still have the use of whatever metaphors I like! I can assure you: I am quite used to students and their making fun of how I died."

Ron's mouth was filled to overflowing once again: "Node iddum eentup eschew"

Nicholas didn't believe this an adequate apology. He straightened his feathered hat and departed for the other end of the table to sit with Colin and Dennis Creevey.

Once the food was consumed, the deserts served, the plates cleared, Dumbledore rose to give his customary opening speech:

"Now that we're all digesting another wonderful feast, a few words: I remind everyone that the Forbidden Forest is off-limits, both our new arrivals, and some of our older students as well…"

Did he give a momentary glare Fred's and George's way?

"...There is a reason why it's called the ' _Forbidden_ Forest'. Now I know we all like to explore, but I must insist, and I ask your co-operation in seeing that all our students return to their homes safe and sound.

"Mr. Filch, our Care Taker, has asked me for the four hundred, sixty second time, to remind everyone that magic is not permitted in the corridors between classes. You may want to stop by his office to read the notice of other prohibited behaviours and objects attached to his office door.

"I would also like to welcome two new-comers to our faculty. First, Professor Grubbly-Planc is returning as Care of Magical Creatures Professor during Professor Hagrid's sabbatical..."

Dumbledore bowed towards her as she gave a wave. There were applause around the tables.

"Professor Umbridge will be joining us as our Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor…"

He gave the same bow of welcome to the maiden auntie in the pink cardigan.

"Try-outs for Quiddich teams will be held…"

This Professor Umbridge stood at her place.

"Hem, hem", she gave that throat clearing sound.

This had never happened before, and Dumbledore looked surprised for just a moment. The other professors, and the students, didn't conceal it as well. Dumbledore sat back down, looking at her as though he desired nothing more than to hear what she had to say. Professor Sprout's eye brows disappeared into her fly-away hair, and McGonagall's mouth was thinner than anyone could remember. That was always a bad sign.

"Thank you for that most gracious welcome, Professor", she began in a breathy, high-pitched, little girl voice that didn't sound the least bit genuine.

"My! It's been a long time since I sat in this very Hall. So good to be back at Hogwarts as a professor, and to see all the happy little faces out there".

Students were looking around for those happy little faces, but none were in evidence. Just shocked looks at the effrontery of interrupting the Headmaster, and bewilderment as to why she was taking to them like they were a bunch of five year olds.

"I am looking forward to meeting each and every one of you; I'm sure we will be very good friends…"

"I'll be her friend if she lets me borrow that cardigan", Luna said to Pansy. Luna and Pansy had her hands over her mouths in silent giggles.

Professor Umbridge cleared her throat again ("Hem, hem") and continued, but the voice was quite different, more business-like as she began a speech that sounded like something she'd memorized.

"The Ministry of Magic has always held the highest priority on the education of young magi. The rare gifts with which all of you were born will come to nothing unless perfected and honed by careful instruction. The ancient skills of the Wizarding World must be passed down through the generations, lest we lose them forever. The store of Magical knowledge bequeathed to us by our ancestors needs preserving, polishing, and replenishing by those of us called to the noble profession of teaching".

Professor Umbridge gave a slight bow to her colleagues, none of whom returned the gesture. Instead, McGonagall's eyebrows contracted so far as to give her a hawkish look. She exchanged glances with Professor Sprout.

("Hem, hem")

"Each Headmaster and Headmistress has brought something unique to the Hogwarts experience. This is as it should be for without progress there is stagnation and decay. However, this does not imply that progress, just for the sake of progress, is a good thing, in and of itself. This is where tradition is an invaluable guide. A proper balance between the old and the new, change and permanence, tradition and innovation…"

Attention around the tables was waning fast: Cho Chang was having a discussion with her friends, Luna had her _Quibbler_ out, about the only one who looked to be paying attention was Earnie MacMillan at the Hufflepuffs' table, but his eyes had a glassy look, like the body was present, but the mind far away. By now, a full-on riot wouldn't've been noticed, or deterred Umbridge from speaking.

"Some changes will be for the better, but others, in the fullness of time, will be recognized as errors of judgment. Some old habits will be retained, and rightly so, therefore, let us enter into a new era of openness, accountability, and efficiency, preserving what needs to be preserved, perfecting that which needs perfecting, and pruning where we need to prune".

Umbridge sat down, and Dumbledore applauded, leading the polite, but unenthusiastic, applause from faculty and students alike. Snape and McGonagall gave just the barest minimum: two claps each.

"Thank you, Professor Umbridge", Dumbledore congratulated, "that was most enlightening". He managed to say it as though he meant it.

"He's too kind", Ron said. "Nothing enlightening about that… damned rude, if you ask me".

"You should've paid more attention", Katie Bell said.

"Load of waffle, if you ask me", Ron replied.

"Yes, it was, and a more canned speech I've never heard. However, there was a lot of truth between the lines", she continued her explanation, "this means that the Ministry and Fudge are interfering with Hogwarts to an unprecedented level. Looks like they're looking for a reason to ease Dumbledore out".

"After last summer, I'm not surprised", Dean Thomas said. "All that blather about Hewhomustnotbenamed and how he's back".

"You can't believe everything you read in the _Prophet_ ", George objected.

There was a scratching of benches as everyone was leaving the Great Hall for their dorms. The debate continued in Gryffindor's Common Room. Neville, Fred, and George taking Dumbledore's side. Dean Thomas, and Alicia Spinnet taking sides with the Ministry, that it was all so much nonsense.

"Mum almost didn't let me come back", Seamus Finnegan explained. He'd convinced his parents to allow him to return just last year. "Says Dumbledore's losing it…"

"So she believes everything the _Prophet_ says?", Fred asked.

"Dumbledore's insane, senile, or an evil Machiavellian plotter out to get his job?", George added. "So which is it?"

"The _Prophet_ changes its story more often than some people change their underwear", Fred said with a glance Ron's way.

"They really are the limit", Clarence Livermore, Gryffindor's new Boys' Prefect, told himself as he took down a sign that had been posted over the notice of the date of the first Hogsmeade weekend in October over the previous night:

 **GALLONS OF GALLEONS!**

 **Income not keeping up with outgo?**

 **Need some extra walkin' around money?**

 **SEE FRED AND GEORGE WEASLEY,**

 **Gryffindor Common Room for easy, virtually painless**

 **Part time work**

 **(We regret to inform all that all work is at the applicant's risk)**

"Hey!", George complained.

"I know what this is about and I can't allow it", Clarence explained. "Test that shit on yourselves, if you must, but _our_ Firsties are not your guinea pigs".

"We _do_ test it ourselves first, to make sure there's no harm, but we need to test to get dosages correct, and to see if there aren't any unforeseen side effects".

"Marketing research, yannow", Fred said.

"Sorry, guys, but that's the way it'll have to be: no experimenting on Firsties – or anyone else here at Hogwarts".

In the Great Hall, there came a whoosh as over a hundred owls flew in through an open window to deliver the daily mail. They also showered the people below with drops of water as it was raining hard outside. McGonagall was moving past the table with the daily schedule.

"Look at this!", Ron was complaining, "History of Magic, Divination, Double Potions, Double Defense… Binns, Snape, Trelawney, and that Umbridge woman: all in one day… I wish Fred and George would get those Skiving Snackboxes in order…"

"Can let you have some Nosebleed Nougats real cheap", Fred said.

"Why're they cheap?", Ron asked.

"Don't have an antidote just yet".

"I'll take the lessons, thank you so very much", Ron pocketed his schedule.

"Anyway, Little Brother, quitcherbitchin'", George added, " _you_ aren't taking your OWLs this year".

"How bad can it be?"

"They'll be keeping our noses to the grind stone they'll be rubbed raw", Fred said.

"Half the last year had minor breakdowns coming up on the OWLs…", George reminded.

"Patricia Stimpson was coming up feint. Kennith Towler actually broke out with boils…", Fred reminisced.

"That's because you put Bulbadox Powder in his Pjs", George reminded.

"I forgot about that", Fred said.

"So what are your plans for this year?", Ron asked.

"I figure we'll shoot for three OWLs a-piece…", Fred explained.

"Bare minimum", George completed that thought. "Our future isn't in academia, and do we really need NEWTs? Mother won't like it, but we're keeping that to ourselves, what with Percy's turning into such a prat".

"We're not wasting our final year. We'll use it to do marketing research, see what the average Hogwarts student would like to see in a joke shop, and tailor our product line to best serve those needs".

"Of course, Mother doesn't need to hear about that just yet", Fred and George reminded.

 **0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF**

As the students filed into the classroom for Defense, Professor Umbridge was already there, behind her desk. She was wearing the same pink fluffy cardigan she wore to the Welcome Feast. This time, with a large black bow in her hair that looked as though an enormous fly perched there. The students entered warily, as this Professor was an unknown quantity.

"Well, good afternoon!", she greeted enthusiastically as they took their places. She said it in that faux pleasant, little girl voice.

"'Noon", some of the students, fresh from History and Divination grunted back.

"Tut, tut", Umbridge said, "That won't do, no, that won't do at all. When I say 'Good afternoon', I expect you to say 'Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge'. Let's try that again: Good afternoon, class!"

"Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge", they intoned as one.

"There now; much better. That wasn't that hard, now was it? Shall we get started: quills and parchment out; wands away".

Students exchanged wordless looks as they fished the parchment, quills, and inkpots from book bags. "Wands away" never meant anything good.

Umbridge opened her hand bag, and took out an unusually short wand to tap the blackboard. A message appeared:

 _Defense Against the Dark Arts_

 _A return to basic principles_

Hands clasped in front of her: "Until now, your instruction in this course has been rather fragmented and disjoint. Between the high turn-over rate and substandard instructors who don't seem to have followed any Ministry approved course outlines. This has unfortunately led to your being well behind what we would expect for your class year.

"You will be pleased to know that we will be correcting the problem. We will be following a carefully structured, theory-based, Ministry-approved course of defensive magick this year. If you will copy down the following…"

She tapped the blackboard again, and a new message appeared:

 _Course Objectives_

 _* Understanding the principles underlying defensive magick_

 _* Learning to recognize occasions where defensive magick may legally be used_

 _* Placing defensive magick in contexts for practical use_

There was scratching of quills for a couple of minutes. After everyone had enough time to write the course outline, she asked: "Has everyone brought their copy of _Defensive Magical Theory_?"

More calls of "Uh-huh", "Yeah", "OK"

"I think we need to try again", she said. "When I ask you a question, I expect an answer of 'Yes, Professor Umbridge' or 'No, Professor Umbridge'. Did everyone bring their copy of _Defensive Magical Theory_?"

"Yes, Professor Umbridge", they answered in chorus.

"Good. Now I would like you to turn to page five and read the first chapter: 'Basics for Beginners'. There will be no need for talk".

The text was as excruciating as one of Binns' lectures. A page and a half in, and eyelids were growing heavy. Dean was abscent-mindedly twirling his quill, eyes fixed on one spot on the page. Draco glanced over to see that Ginny hadn't bothered to open the book. She sat there, hand in the air, staring at Umbridge as though trying to call her attention with ESP. Umbridge was looking in another direction with just as much determination. This contest of wills drew the attention of half the class. It was more interesting than "Basics for Beginners".

Finally. Umbridge seemed to notice: "You had a question about the chapter, Miss…"

"… Ginny Weasley, Professor Umbridge. Not about the chapter…"

"We're reading now, Dear, if you have some other question, ask it after class".

"I wanted to ask about the class objectives".

"I should think they were plain enough, if you read and copied them".

"Yes, Professor Umbridge, but where is the mention of actually _using_ defensive spells?"

"Using defensive spells?", she repeated with a little laugh. "Why, I can't imagine any reason to _use_ a defensive spell in class. Surely, Miss Weasley, you aren't expecting to be attacked here in my classroom?"

"We aren't gonna use magick?", Neville called out.

"In my class, my students are expected to raise their hands if they wish to speak. Mr…"

"… Longbottom". He put his hand up, as did Ginny.

"You wanted to ask something else, Miss Weasley?"

"Isn't the whole point of Defense practicing defense?"

"Tell me, how old are you?"

"Thirteen, Professor".

Umbridge flipped through some papers on her desk.

"I see you skipped a year ahead with Advanced Placement credits. A Ravenclaw: you fancy yourself pretty smart, do you?"

"Well, Professor, I... ummmm... did OK last year", Ginny tried to downplay it. She could see where this was leading.

"And are you, perhaps, a Ministry trained and licensed educational expert?"

"No, Professor Umbridge, but …"

"Then you are not qualified to be determining what the point of any class is, Miss Weasley. Wizards with far more experience than you, who are cleverer than you, have created the course outline. You will be learning defense in a risk-free and secure manner"

"What use is that?! No attack will be risk-free..."

" _Hand, Mr Malfoy!",_ Umbridge said it, still with that faux pleasant tone.

Draco and several others had their hands up.

"And you might be?"

"Thomas, Professor, Dean Thomas".

"Well, Mr Thomas?"

"It's like Draco said, isn't it? If we're attacked, it won't be in a risk free way".

"Let me reiterate: are you expecting to be attacked here in class?"

"No, but…"

"I do not wish to criticize how Hogwarts has done things in the past, however, you have been exposed to some wizards of dubious responsibility. You have been exposed to spells of a complexity beyond your level of understanding, some of which had lethal consequences. It is my understanding that the last professor of this class not only performed illegal spells in the classroom, but actually performed them _on_ you…"

"Mad Eye was kind of a maniac…"

" _Hand, Mr Thomas!"_

"... We did learn loads from him..."

"You have been frightened into believing that you will meet dark attacks every other day…"

"No, we haven't…"

" _Your hand is not up Miss Weasley!_

"It is the view of the Ministry that a theoretical knowledge will be sufficient to get you through your examinations, which is what school is for…

"Yes?"

Another hand had gone up.

"Parvati Patil, Professor. Isn't there a practical part of the OWL in Defense? How can we pass that part of the exam without practice? If we haven't done the counter spells?"

"If you pay attention and study, there is no reason why you shouldn't be able to perform the required spells in a carefully controlled examination environment".

"The first time we actually do the counter spells will be at exam time?", she asked, incredulous.

"I repeat: if you study and understand the material, there should be no problem with passing any examination the Ministry sees fit to require of you".

"What use is that in the real world?", Ginny asked, fist in the air.

"This is school, not the real world, Miss Weasley".

"What about after graduation? What about what's waiting for us out there?"

"There is nothing waiting for you out there. Who do you imagine would want to attack a child, such as yourself?"

"Oh, I dunnow… How about…", Ginny paused in mock thoughtfulness, "... _Lord Voldemort?_ "

There were gasps of shock; Neville fell out of his seat. One girl let out a yelp.

"Ten points from Ravenclaw, Miss Weasley", she didn't say it with the expected anger.

"Let me make one thing perfectly clear here. You have heard that a certain dark lord has returned from the dead…"

"He wasn't exactly dead", Ginny said, "and I nearly _died_ because of him. I believe he did return…"

"YouhavealreadycostyourHousetenpointsdoyouwanttoloseanymore?", Umbridge said in one breathe. She still managed to use that little girl voice despite the anger behind those words.

"You have been misinformed that a certain dark wizard is at large once again. This. Is. A. Lie…"

"It's not a lie!", Ginny called out. "He damn near _killed_ me two years ago! If…", she stopped herself before giving away the secret of Harry and Lucius.

"Thirty more points from Ravenclaw, and detention: 5:00 this evening, Miss Weasley. Up front, now", she ordered.

Umbridge took out a sheet of pink paper, dipped her quill, and wrote something Ginny couldn't see. She folded the paper and sealed it with her wand to prevent Ginny's reading it.

"You will take this to Mr. Flitwick", she said in that faux-pleasant voice that really meant "Look out!"

"Yes, Professor", Ginny turned to go.

After her departure: "The Ministry of Magic guarantees that you are not in any danger from any dark wizards. If you're still worried about it, then by all means, feel free to see me after class hours and we'll discuss it. If anyone is frightening you with fibs about Dark Lords, then by all means, I want to hear about it. I'm here to help; I'm your friend. We've wasted enough time on this matter: back to "Basics for Beginners".

Ginny, on her way to see Flitwick, was accosted by Peeves.

"Little Gin-gin dunnit this time…  
Gonna get some ass whoop…  
Been reading any strange diaries lately?  
Gonna let Voldie feed again?"

"Fuck off, Peeves".

"Some say Gin-gin's barking  
Others say she's sad  
But Peevesie knows she's quite, quite mad"

He didn't let up until she arrived at Flitwick's office. She knocked and was asked in.

"Ginny? Shouldn't you be in class?"

"Got kicked out", she explained as she handed over Umbridge's letter.

"Sit down", he indicated a chair by his desk as he magiced open the note.

She was expecting the worst: another detention from another professor.

"Cookie and tea, Ginny", he said instead, as he pushed a tin towards her. He went to fetch a pot, cup and saucer

"I don't really…"

"I insist".

She took a ginger newt from the tin. He passed her a cup and saucer.

"What does it say?"

"That you talked back in class without raising your hand, sassed your professor, and disobeyed a directive to cease disrupting class, and that you have detention for the rest of the week.

"Ginny, I thought you at least had some common sense", Flitwick said in a disappointed voice.

"What do you mean, Professor?"

"Weren't you paying attention at the Feast? You know who she is? Who she works for?"

"But she called me a liar!"

"Then you should have let her. I am well aware of what happened to you during your first year, and who was responsible. However, you need to understand that there are those who have a vested interest in seeing that talk of Dark Lords isn't granted credence. Powerful players within the Ministry, as high up as the office of the Minister himself. These are not the people you want for enemies. You do not want to be pissing off Dolores Umbridge, Mr. Fudge's First Secretary. I fully understand why you were upset, why you got angry. I must insist: keep that anger under control from now on, and do nothing to upset Umbridge.

"Ginny, this isn't about truth. It's about politics. Sometimes, it is unfortunately necessary to not contradict the pleasant lie for an uncomfortable truth. The truth will out, sometimes not according to a time line that suits us".

"About the detention…"

"There is nothing I can do about your detention. As a Professor, Umbridge is well within her rights to assign detentions".

"Can't you contest it?"

"You can, but you would lose before the Board of Governors. Regardless of your feelings, the objective truth is that you did talk back; you did disrupt class. That is what the Board will see, and you'll just make it worse for yourself. Apologize, do your detention, and watch that temper from now on".

"Yes, Professor".

 **0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF**

Ginny had to rush through the evening feast to make it to Umbridge's office by 5:00. She knocked, and Umbridge answered.

"Do come in, my Dear", she said in that faux pleasant voice.

Ginny looked around the office, there were doilies everywhere, several vases of dried flowers, all on their own small tables. The walls decorated with these plates that looked very much like the collector plates sold to muggles. These being decorated with kittens. Unlike the muggle plates, these kittens never ceased with their mewling as they licked themselves, played with string, chased their tails. They were very annoying.

"I want you to go to that corner", she pointed to a vacant spot, "and take off your robe"

Ginny did as she was ordered. She was wearing civvies under the robe: jeans and a T.

"Go on", Umbridge said, "undress. Given your attitude, I think a little extra humiliation is in order".

Ginny figured that it would be best not to ask questions, considering what her Head of House advised.

Umbridge pointed to a small writing desk with a hard wood bench. "Sit", she ordered. Ginny was completely naked. There was a sheet of parchment and an unusual, black feathered quill with a very sharp point waiting.

"You will be doing lines for me", Umbridge explained. "You will write 'I must not tell lies'".

"You didn't give me any ink", Ginny complained.

"Oh, you won't be needing ink, My Dear", she said with a slight laugh.

Ginny picked up the quill, maybe a fountain pen, or some sort of self-inking quill?

"How many times, Professor?", Ginny asked.

"Until the message sinks in", Umbridge told her with that little girl voice with a hint of a smirk behind the honeyed words. She turned to the paper work at her desk.

Ginny put the quill to paper: "I must not tell lies", she wrote in shining, red ink. At the same time, she gasped as she saw the same words appear on the back of her hand as though carved with a scalpel. The words disappeared after a few seconds. It occurred to her that the red "ink" was her own blood.

"Yes, Miss Weasley?", Umbridge asked.

"Nothing, Professor", Ginny replied as she continued writing. The words appearing, then disappearing, leaving just a slight redness. Gradually, the cutting became worse, the words taking longer to clear up. She didn't know how long she'd been at it before Umbridge asked her to come to the desk.

"Hand", she ordered. Ginny held out her hand, the back showing a slight redness, the cutting sensation fading fast.

"So far, I'm not making much of an impression on you. We'll try again tomorrow evening".

"So how did detention go?", Parvati asked at breakfast.

"Peachy, just peachy", Ginny said.

"So what did she have you do?"

"Lines"

"That doesn't sound so bad. Could be worse, I suppose".

"Yeah", was all she said.

The next evening, Ginny presented herself at Umbridge's office.

"Undress", she ordered.

"You failed to apologize last session for your outburst in class when you insisted you know better than your teacher and the Ministry about how to teach class".

"I'm sorry, Professor".

"Too late for that now, I wouldn't believe you really meant it. We'll deal with that later. Get writing, 'I must not tell lies'"

This time, the redness appeared right away, the words she carved into her hand taking longer than ever to begin to clear up.

By the third session, the words weren't disappearing, and her hand began to ooze droplets of blood. She was becoming afraid she would be scarred for life, but who to turn to? Flitwick had already told her as much that there was nothing he could do. Professor Dumbledore couldn't dare go against the First Secretary, not the way Fudge suspected him of intrigue. After all, wasn't that the reason Umbridge was there in the first place? Why the Minister had the Wizengamot pass "emergency" legislation giving him the authority to fill vacancies on Hogwarts staff just before the start of the term?

"Draco", Ginny decided to confess, "is there anything you can do about this?", as she showed him the hand she'd been hiding. This was after breakfast, before Transfiguration.

" _Howthehelldidthathappen?_!", he asked, shocked.

"Umbridge has this special quill that she's been making me use to write lines".

" _Why_ didn't you say something sooner?!"

"I… couldn't tell Flitwick, and Dumbledore can't do anything. I… didn't want her to know she got to me".

"That Weasley pride… it'll be the death of you. We're here to help, and there's no shame in asking. Especially about something like this. I'll ask Snape if he can do anything".

The first break, Draco took out his one time pad to encode a brief message. After that was done, he touched his wand to the sheet of numbers and it flashed to flame. He made his way to the owlery

"Take this to Owlery Holt", Draco said as he attached the note to the owl's leg.

That afternoon in Potions the whole class quieted as soon as they heard the door to Snape's adjoining office open.

"Settle down", he called out, though there was no reason for that. Snape didn't need to command attention.

"Today's lesson will be the Draught of Peace – a potion for calming anxiety and combating depression. Be warned: any overuse of certain ingredients will put the drinker into a comatose state, perhaps permanently. The instructions are on the board…"

He whipped out his wand, and the instructions appeared on the blank blackboard.

"… You'll find everything you need in the cupboard".

Another wave of his wand, and the cupboard doors opened.

Everyone formed a line to get the necessary ingredients for the potion. It was an especially fiddly potion, requiring the addition of the ingredients at specific times with stirring so many revolutions, first clockwise, then anticlockwise. Simmering for just the right number of minutes, under the right flame.

With ten minutes left to go: "Your cauldron should be giving off light, silver vapour", he said as he walked up and down the lab stations.

Ginny's cauldron was doing precisely that as Snape came to inspect: "See me after class", he said.

Everyone wondered why he would say that, as Ginny's potion was turning out the closest to right. No reason why she should be in any trouble with Snape.

"Clean up, and fill a flagon with your potion, clearly labeled with your name for testing. Your homework: I want twelve inches on parchment on the uses of moonstone in potion preparation. Your essays will be due on Thursday".

Others weren't faring so well. Neville's cauldron was filled with what looked like freshly mixed concrete which he was scraping out of his cauldron. Earnie MacMillan's was giving off green sparks. Greg Goyle's flagon cracked, the contents setting fire to his robes.

"You wanted to see me, Professor?", Ginny asked.

"Come here, Miss Weasley", he said as he poured out some light yellow liquid in a bowl. "Soak your hand in this".

She did so, and the throbbing in her right hand was relieved instantly.

"A solution of strained and pickled murtlap tentacles", Snape explained. "It should relieve the pain, and, with luck, we can prevent any permanent scarring".

"Thank you, Professor", she said it in a way that meant she couldn't believe he would ever care.

"I know most of my students think I'm some sort of ogre", Snape answered the unasked question. "I admit I am a most demanding teacher, but that does not mean I do not care about the well being of my students", he drawled. "In that spirit, I advise you to not get on Professor Umbridge's bad side again. You do excellent work and it would be a pity to lose you".

"Thank you for saying that. Professor Flitwick said the same thing", Ginny explained. She knew he was quite parsimonious with complements, either in or out of, class.

"I hope you were listening. Take the rest of the bottle with you and soak your hand after your detentions".

 **0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF**

The next morning, an owl dropped a reply at Draco's place at the Slytherin table. It was numbers. At the afternoon break, he used the next page to decode it: "Meet me in the Come and Go Room, Friday with Ginny".

 _Owlery Holt_

"What do you mean? Ginny tortured?", Harry asked.

"That's all Draco's message said. I shall investigate, see what this is all about".

"I never thought Dumbledore…"

"Harry, you need to understand that Dumbledore is no more in charge than you are. Ever since Fudge started his educational initiative, he – not Dumbledore – has been running Hogwarts. Dumbledore is just a figure head now".

"I can't believe Dumbledore would be a party to anything like this", Sirius agreed. "For all his faults, the one thing you can't fault him for is a lack of caring about his students".

"How is the second edition of _A Tale of Two Toms_ coming along?", Lucius asked.

"Almost ready to go to press", Harry explained. "Got the latest edits from Hermione this morning".

"Susan and I are putting the final touches on the artwork", Sirius replied.

 _Hogwarts: Umbridge's Office_

Ginny arrived for her final detention session, undressed, and wrote "I must not tell lies" until her hand bled.

Finally, Umbridge demanded: "Hand". Ginny held out her hand.

"Looks like the message as finally sunk in, Miss Weasley".

"Yes, Professor".

Ginny got up to get dressed.

"I haven't dismissed you yet, Miss Weasley", Umbridge said as she put a plain wood chair in the center of the room. Ginny wondered what this was about. Hadn't she done her lines?

"There's still the matter of your arrogant attitude, Dear. I expect a proper apology. If you would?" She motioned for Ginny to come forward.

Ginny stepped towards Umbridge, who took her, turned her to face the back of the chair.

"Bend over", Umbridge said.

Ginny bent over the back of the chair, hands flat on the seat. So she was getting her ass whipped, she figured that was the point of bending over: taughten her butt to increase the sensitivity. Bending over sculpted her butt cheeks into two silky smooth, symmetrical ovals.

"Have you ever been caned before, My Dear?"

"No, Professor".

"I believe you will find the cane a most effective attitude adjustment. I expect a proper apology for your arrogant attitude, Miss Weasley"

Umbridge had a rattan loop attached to a handle. With this, she lightly tapped Ginny's buttocks and the backs of her legs, while holding her down with a hand in the middle of her back. She gave a stroke that connected across Ginny's right butt cheek, leaving a pink semi-circle. She jerked, the swat began to sting.

"I'm sorry for my arrogant attitude", Ginny said.

A swish across the opposite butt cheek, a matching pink semicircle on the middle of her left butt cheek. Umbridge alternated butt cheeks with each stroke.

"I'm sorry for my arrogant attitude"

Ginny realized that Umbridge was taking her time, letting the sting rise before delivering the next one.

Whack… "I'm sorry for my arrogant attitude"

Whack… "I'm sorry for my arrogant attitude"

Ginny decided that it would be wise to let go of her Weasley pride.

Whack… "Iiiiii...'m sssssorry for my arrogant aaaaattitude", she sobbed as she ceased fighting the tears of both pain and humiliation.

Whack… "Iiiiii'm ssssorry ffffffor my arrrrrro-gant atttt-itude"

Whack… "Iiiiii'm ssssorry ffffffor my arrrrrro-gant atttt-itude… Ppppplease… Nnnno more…"

"I think a few more are in order, My Dear"

The pink semicircles had become angry red welts well placed so that she couldn't avoid sitting directly on them. Umbridge ran a hand over the welts, pleased to see bruising and redness.

"Stand up; turn around", Umbridge demanded.

Ginny stood, eyes down, hands rubbing her burning buttocks. She was still sobbing, tears running down her cheeks.

"Hurts, doesn't it?"

"Yes, Professor", Ginny agreed, eyes not meeting Umbridge's.

"I expect you won't sit comfortably for most of the rest of the week".

"No… Professor"

Umbridge put her hand under Ginny's chin to lift her tear streaked face. Ginny hoped her eyes didn't betray any defiance.

"Apology accepted. I can see you're really sorry this time. Every time you sit down, let that be a reminder to not question my authority again. Is that understood?"

"Yes Professor".

"Get dressed and be on your way", she ordered.

Draco was waiting outside the office.

"Oh Draco…", she collapsed into his arms.

" _Whatdidshedotoyou?!"_

"It… it… She is a horrible, evil woman!"

He looked around. No one was watching.

"Come with me", he said as he led her by her uninjured hand.

"I need to see Lucius… I need to see Lucius… I need to see Lucius", he paced back and forth in front of the blank wall. The oak doors appeared.

"What…", Ginny started.

"The Come and Go Room", Draco explained. "Few know about it".

"Long time; no see", Lucius greeted. "Have a seat", he motioned to a chair in front of his desk.

"L… Lucius?", Ginny said. "I'd rather not..."

"Hello again, Ginny", he greeted, "Maybe, one of these days, we can meet under pleasant circumstances…. I can help, Ginny", he said. "Tell me what's been going on here".

Ginny told all about the detention, that Umbridge made her do her detentions in the nude, the bare-assed caning she'd just received.

"The bitch enjoyed every minute of it", Ginny said.

"I'll need to get some pictures", he said as he took out his digital camera. He photographed her raw, bleeding hand.

"If you'd drop your trousers"

Draco turned his back and Ginny gingerly slipped her jeans and panties off her welted butt. Lucius took more pictures.

"What can you do?', Ginny asked as she pulled her jeans up, carefully.

"She do this to anyone else?"

"Some Firsties"

"I'll need their names"

Ginny bent over the desk to write the names with a normie pen.

"The public at large needs to know. After that, it's up to them. I highly doubt that the parents of the rest of the students will approve".

"If Mum and Dad find out…"

"… They will be properly pist. If they can't light a fire under Dumbledore's ass to get that woman removed as far from Hogwarts as possible, no one can".

"I'll see you to Ravenclaw Tower", Draco offered.


	39. The High Inquisitor

**The High Inquisitor**

 _Owlery Holt_

"Now that you've all read Draco's message and my report, the next question is what are we going to do about this?", Lutra asked.

"Have you contacted Ginny's parents?", Amelia Bones asked.

"I talked with Arthur, and I can tell you this: he's pist over what that bitch did to his daughter… Pist and frustrated: he said there was precious little he could do without alienating Fudge more than he already has. Dumbledipshit did promise to 'look into it' (finger quotes), but we all know he's not calling any shots, so far as Umbridge is concerned".

"I am afraid that there isn't much to work with here", Lucius Malfoy explained. "Corporal punishment is allowed by the Bylaws. Suspension by wrists or ankles, whipping with the Cat o' Nine Tails, and definitely caning, paddling, and spanking are all technically permitted, though haven't been used in decades or centuries. It's like all those obsolete laws: still legal, but never enforced, even though they could be".

"What are the exact Bylaws concerning corporal punishment?"

"I'll get back to you on that".

"How many parents know?", Narcissa asked. "If they knew that corporal punishment was back on the table, how many would go along?"

"The _Prophet_ has mentioned nothing about that when they were reporting on Fudge's educational initiatives, nor do his educational decrees explicitly approve".

"Then it's up to us to alert the public, another communique from the Order is in order".

"Do we let Dumbledore off the hook?", Sirius asked. "With these educational decrees, he may not have had a choice".

"I disagree", Harry said, "blame him…"

"I know you don't particularly like Dumbledore…", Sirius pointed out.

"It has _nothing_ to do with that! Think about it: if we don't attack Dumbledore, what will they think? They'll figure the Order of the Otter is the Order of the Phoenix's alter ego. It's best if they think we're competition, if not outright opposition. Keep 'em guessing".

"He does have a point", Amelia observed.

"Then I'll draw up a draft", Lutra said.

"The latest around the Ministry", Lucius began, "is that Fudge is becoming more suspicious and paranoid about Dumbledore. It was one of the reasons he installed his 'consigliere', First Secretary Umbridge, into the Defense professorship. Fudge doesn't want the students to receive combat training…"

" _Combat_ training?", Sirius asked, "you're shittin' us, right? He thinks Dumbledore is planning on using Hogwarts students as some sort of private army or something?"

"I wish I was, but that is the reason Ginny and the others are receiving deliberately inadequate Defense Against the Dark Arts lessons that aren't including any defensive magick. Yes, Fudge really does believe that: that Dumbledore is training up an army of kids to forcibly depose the Minister. That's the sorry state of the Ministry: they're worried about some elderly school master and not the very real threat. It wouldn't surprise me in the least if another reason for installing Umbridge wasn't to have Dumbledore brought up on some trumped up charges. Even if Fudge didn't succeed in getting him sent to Azkaban, a lengthy trial would keep him distracted from his 'plot' to overthrow Fudge. Another reason why the Order shouldn't be seen as being too Dumbledore-friendly".

"Without adequate training…", Sirius began.

"Those kids will be sitting ducks for Voldemort and/or his Death Eaters", Lutra completed that thought.

"On that note", Lucius continued, "Fudge pushed another one of his educational decrees through the Wizengamot. It'll be out in tomorrow's _Daily Prophet:_ he's making Umbridge what he calls a 'High Inquisitor'. His latest attempt to undercut Dumbledore, and, perhaps, encourage him to resign as Headmaster. I, however, don't see that happening. As for what this means concerning the well being of the students, who knows? You can be sure of one thing: the well being of the students is the _last_ thing on Fudge's mind".

"I suggest we call this meeting a wrap", Lutra said, "our first priority is exposing the physical abuse of students inside Hogwarts. If there are no objections?"

 **0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF**

 **CONTINUING EDUCATIONAL REFORM**

 **DOLORES UMBRIDGE APPOINTED FIRST HIGH INQUISITOR**

 _In a surprise move, the Wizengamot passed legislation last night giving the Ministry of Magick a new and unprecedented level of control over Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry._

" _The Minister has been growing concerned over the declining standards at the prestigious school for quite some time", said Junior Undersecretary Percy Weasley. "Education has always been a high priority for Minister Fudge. He is responding to the concerns of anxious parents who believe the school is moving in directions that do not meet their approval"_

 _This is not the first time Minister Fudge has used emergency legislation to pass measures that address the issue of educational reform. Educational Decree Twenty Two, passed on 30 August of this year, granted the Ministry the power to fill any faculty openings that the Headmaster could not._

" _That's how Ms Umbridge came to become the new Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor", explained Mr. Weasley. "Headmaster Dumbledore could not find a suitable applicant for the position in time for the opening of the current academic year. Ms Umbridge has become an overnight success. She has revolutionized the teaching of Defense Against the Dark Arts, and is also providing the Ministry with on-the-ground feedback about what is happening inside Hogwarts"._

 _It was the latter role that Educational Decree Twenty Three formalizes with the establishment of the position of High Inquisitor._

" _This is an exciting new phase in coming to grips with what some are referring to as the 'falling standards' at the historic school", explained Mr. Weasley. "The Inquisitor will have a new power to audit her fellow educators to ensure that they are coming up to scratch. Professor Umbridge has been offered this new assignment in addition to her own teaching position, and we are delighted to inform you that she accepted this additional responsibility"._

 _The new measures have received the enthusiastic endorsement of parents whose children attend Hogwarts._

" _I feel much easier in my mind knowing that Mr. Dumbledore will be subject to a fair and objective evaluation", Lucius Malfoy, age 41, said last night from his Wiltshire mansion. "Many of us, with our children's best interests at heart, have become_ _concerned about some of Mr. Dumbledore's more eccentric decisions of the past few years. We will rest easier knowing the_ _Ministry_ _will be keeping an eye on the school"._

 _Among the "eccentric decisions" are the controversial appointments previously noted in this paper: the hiring of the half-giant, Rubeus Hagrid as the Care of Magical Creatures Professor over more qualified candidates, and the hiring last year of the delusional ex-auror: Alistair "Mad Eye" Moody as that year's Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. Mad Eye, living up (down?) to his moniker, actually cast the Imperious Curse on his students. "So they would know what it feels like" – that's a direct quote – to justify this irresponsible and wreckless act. As is the enrolling of werewolves to the student body._

 _Rumours abound that Headmaster Dumbledore, former Supreme Mugwhump of the International Conference of Wizards and former Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, is no longer up to the heavy responsibility of managing Hogwarts. Not everyone is pleased with this development: Wizengamot Elders Griselda Marchebanks and Tiberius Ogden have resigned over the creation of the post of High Inquisitor._

" _Hogwarts is a school", Madam Marchebanks explained, "not an extension of Cornelius Fudge's office. This is another disgusting attempt to discredit Albus Dumbledore, after everything he has done for us over the course of his career" (For a full account of Madam Marchebanks' alleged connection to subversive goblin groups, turn to Page 17)_

 _Hogwarts: Great Hall_

Terry Boot had just finished reading out loud the article at the Ravenclaw table.

"So that's how we got stuck with Umbridge", he said, "Fudge passed a decree".

"He's interfering with our school", Merissa Fawcett said. "It's an outrage!"

"Tell me about it", Ginny said as she looked at the feint outline of the words she was forced to slice into her writing hand. Snape's mertlap potion was still doing its work.

"Express an honest opinion, and Gin-gin gets the short end of the stick…"

"Horace!", Parvati Patil called out.

"You know what I mean", he grinned an evil grin.

"What's so funny?", Parvati asked.

"Just thinking about what happens if that cunt audits McGonagall – she'll tear Umbridge a new asshole".

"We'd better get going", Ginny said, "if she's auditing Binns' class, we don't want to be late".

Umbridge wasn't auditing Magical History, and the class was just as dull as last week's. It was amazing how Binns could make the story of giant wars so mind numbingly dull. At least having it first thing was the next best thing to sleeping in.

She also wasn't there for Double Potions.

Snape handed back the essays on the use of moonstones. Afterwards, he stood before the class.

"To say that I am disappointed would be an understatement", Snape drawled while glaring at his class. "The general quality of this homework was abysmal. I expect that you will do better on this week's essay on the varieties of venom antidotes. If I do not see improvement, I shall have to start giving detentions to all you dolts who earn D's.

"I have already mastered this subject, so it is not my future that's at stake here, but yours. Next year, you will be sitting your OWLs, and I can assure you that most of you would have failed had you turned this in for your exams. I would think you would be a bit more diligent about the quality of your work, considering what is at stake here.

"Today, you will be working on Strengthening Solution. Instructions on the black board…"

He tapped the board with his wand, and the instructions appeared.

"… Everything you need in the cupboard…

"And do try to get it right this time".

After Double Potions, it was lunch time.

"How'd the moonstone essay go?"

"Uhhhhh… don't ask".

"At least I didn't get a 'D'"

"Happy to get a 'A'"

Some of the comments swirling around the tables about Potions.

"So anyone been in an audited class?", Ginny asked.

"Just before lunch", Terry Boot said, "Charms".

"How'd that go?", Parvati asked.

"It went OK, you know how Flitwick is, treated her like a welcome guest. I highly doubt she'll be marking him down. She asked around, questions like 'How is the class?' and 'Does he make the subject clear and understandable?' and 'Does he come to class prepared?', stuff like that. Didn't seem too dreadful of an ordeal".

"So what do we have for this afternoon?", Terry asked.

"First Trelawney, then Umbridge herself", Merrisa said.

Ginny didn't have to wait until Defense to meet Umbridge since she whipped her ass. Everyone assembled in Trelawney's overly dark, hot, and heavily incensed room. Ginny had taken a table in the very back of the room. The trap door opened and the High Inquisitor herself appeared. All conversation silenced immediately.

The sudden silence got Trelawney's attention as she was distributing _Dream Oracles._

"Good afternoon, Professor Trelawney", Umbridge greeted. "I trust you received my note about the time and date of your audit?"

Trelawney nodded curtly, and looking disgruntled, returned to distributing the books. Umbridge dragged an arm chair to the front of the room, right next to Trelawney's place, took out a clipboard from her flowery hand bag, and awaited the start of the class.

Trelawney adjusted her shawls and surveyed the class through those thick glasses that greatly magnified her eyes.

"We shall be continuing our module on dream interpretation", she explained, "I would like for you to pair off, and interpret each other's dreams of last night in accordance with the _Oracle_ ".

She tried faking that mystical voice, but there was a note of uncertainty there.

Parvati was already discussing with the Gryffindor girl: Alicia Spinnet. Terry Boot dropped into the seat opposite Ginny: "May I?", he asked.

"Don't know how much good it'll do you. I don't recall having any dreams last night".

"Just make something up", he whispered back, "she'll never know the difference".

"You first", she said.

Umbridge had her quill out and was taking notes on the clipboard. Trelawney headed for her desk, but seeing Umbridge sitting right next to it, she veered off, making like she was intending to see how Alicia and Parvati were doing.

After a few minutes, Umbridge got up to shadow Trelawney, listening to what she said to her students, pausing to ask questions of the students.

"Quick! Think of something in case the bitch comes back here", Terry told Ginny.

"I… dreamed I turned into a fox", Ginny said.

"OK, we need the time and date of that dream…"

"Last night, and, oh hell, say 3:00AM – the witching hour"

"Need the number of letters in the subject?"

"Three: F, O, X"

"But isn't that also 'Turned into a' a total of fourteen letters?"

"How the hell should I know?", Ginny complained, "three or fourteen, who the hell cares?"

("Hem, hem") Umbridge made that annoying, fake throat-clearing noise. Trelawney turned towards Umbridge, looking very put-out at the interruption.

"You've been teaching here for how long?"

"Nearly fourteen years", Trelawney answered.

"That's quite a long tenure. You were appointed by Headmaster Dumbledore?"

"That's right"

"You are a great granddaughter of the Seer: Cassandra Trelawney?"

"That's correct".

"According to my research, no one from your family since Cassandra's day seems to have inherited any of her abilities?"

"It skips generations, you know".

"Actually, I don't know", Umbridge said. "I find it hard to believe that you, after all this time, should be the heiress of Cassandra… Could you make a prediction for me?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"A _prediction_ : you are the Divination Professor, are you not? One little prediction".

"The Inner Eye does not see on command!", Trelawney said, testily.

"I see", Umbridge said.

"Wait!", Trelawney called out, "I'm sensing something… Something dark… Something that concerns you… There is peril… You are in grave danger…"

"That will be all, Professor Trelawney", Umbridge dismissed. "You will receive the results of your audit in ten days. Good afternoon, Professor". Umbridge needed to cut this audit short as she had Defense after Divination.

Umbridge was at her desk as the students filed in.

"Good afternoon, class", she greeted.

"Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge", they answered as demanded.

"Wands away", she ordered, but few had their wands out. Mostly die-hards who still expected or hoped for actual magick.

"Since we finished the first chapter the last lesson, we will be continuing with chapter two: 'Common Defense Theories and their Derivation'. There will be no need for talking. Begin, page nineteen".

Draco flipped to the table of contents to see if there was enough to last through the term, and to his disappointment, he saw that there was more than enough for the rest of the year. He also noticed Ginny's hand in the air. She waited patiently.

"You had a question, Miss Weasley?", Umbridge finally asked.

"Professor, I've already read the chapter".

"Is that so? Then start with chapter three".

"Professor, I've read the entire book".

"Have you now? Then you should be able to tell us what Mr. Slinkhard says about jinxes in chapter fifteen".

"He said that the term 'counterjinx' is a misnomer, a euphemism that people call jinxes to justify to themselves the use of a jinx. He doesn't approve of jinxes". She avoided mentioning that she didn't agree with what Slinkhard wrote. A good jinx, at the right time, helped get the drop on any opponent.

Umbridge's eyebrows went up; she was impressed against her will.

"And what, exactly, do you want, Miss Weasley?"

"I would like to be excused. I'll turn in the homework, take the tests; other than that, there's really no reason to be here".

"Would you now, Miss Advanced Credit? Up here. Now".

Ginny came up to Umbridge's desk. Umbridge bent her over a knee, pulled up Ginny's robe, pulled down her trousers, and open palm swatted her bare butt in front of the class.

"For… A… Ravenclaw… You… Don't… Learn… Very… Well… Do… You?", emphasizing each word with a swat.

"Pull up your pants, pull down your robe, and sit down. And not another word from you. Oh, and ten points from Ravenclaw"

"What for?", came a call out.

" _Your hand is not up, Mr. Corner"_ , she reprimanded, still in that talk-down-to-the-students-faux-pleasant-little-girl-voice. "As if it were any of your business, for disrupting class with pointless interruption. Not another word, or its double homework to make up for the time you've cost the rest of the class".

Draco was already mentally composing his next message to Lucius. This time, let Luna use her one time pad, so he wouldn't be seen going up to the owlery too frequently.

 _Owlery Holt_

"How is the new communique coming along?", Lucius asked.

"Putting the finishing touches on it", Sirius said.

"Got some very good news from Lucius", Harry said. "It's a strong case against the Umbridge bitch".

"New development from Luna", Lucius explained. "It would seem that our High Inquisitor has a personal animus for Ginny Weasley. Umbridge spanked her in front of the entire class. Be sure to include that in the final draft".

"I was wondering what we could do", Harry said, "to help the kids? When I was there, we got Lupin to tutor us when Quirrel was DADA prof".

"I've been wondering the same thing. I really don't know. We can't use Remus: he's too close to Dumbledore, too involved with the Order of the Phoenix. I don't know who else Dumbledore would accept, and given the reason for the installation of Umbridge as High Inquisitor, I highly doubt any outside help in DADA would be approved, even if the Bylaws allow it. We've already seen how fast and loose she is with those Bylaws".

 _Hogwarts: Care of Magical Creatures_

Since it was a good day, one of the few remaining, the class would be held outdoors, by the Forbidden Forest.

"Today, we will be continuing with out module on bowtruckles", Professor Grubbly-Planc announced as she stood behind a trestle table where captive bowtruckles – looking like miniature stick-men – were scrambling for the wood lice that looked like wiggling strands of wild rice. These stick-men were the guardians of trees, especially those whose wood was of wand-making quality. Normally quite harmless, they would defend fiercely the trees they called home. If not careful, you could lose an eye while collecting sticks and branches for wand making if you didn't distract them with wood lice, or fairy eggs.

The previous session, the students familiarized themselves with the bowtruckles, and the assignment was to prepare a diagram of a bowtruckle, all anatomy labeled.

("Hem, hem") Everyone inwardly cringed.

"You don't usually teach this class, isn't that correct?", Umbridge asked.

"I'm standing in for Professor Hagrid, yes", she replied.

"Do you have any idea as to the reason behind Professor Hagrid's lengthy absence from his responsibilities as a Hogwarts Professor?"

"I'm afraid I'm as much in the dark as you are. The Headmaster has told me nothing. All I know is I received an owl asking if I would like to take the Care of Magical Creatures Professorship for two or more weeks, and I agreed. As for why Hagrid isn't available, I didn't ask. Shall I get started with today's lesson?"

"By all means", Professor.

Everyone was wondering why Umbridge would be conducting an audit of a substitute teacher – a substitute who might not even be around to get the results of her audit in ten days. Hagrid could easily be back by then.

"I don't like this", Ginny whispered to George. "No reason for auditing a temp".

"Unless she's trying to get her appointed permanently. Whatever's keeping him, he'd better get back here soon".

Umbridge was milling around, asking the students about magical creatures. They were answering quite well, demonstrating that Hagrid had done a good job while he was still here.

After a long discussion with Dean Thomas, Umbridge returned to Grubbly-Planc's side: "How do you, as a temporary member of the faculty, an objective outside observer, you might say, how do you find Hogwarts? Do you believe you are getting adequate support from the Headmaster?"

"Oh my yes", she replied heartily, "Headmaster Dumbledore is doing an _excellent_ job managing Hogwarts. I'm quite happy with how Hogwarts is run, very happy indeed"

"Ummmm…", Umbridge said with polite incredulity as she made a note on her ever present clipboard.

"Were you to be appointed to this professorship long term, how would you proceed?"

"Well, the class has been well prepared. They've done modules on unicorns, nifflers. I would probably cover porlocks and kneazles; make sure they can recognize crups and knarles".

"I will say that _you_ seem to know what you're doing", Umbridge said. The emphasis on you didn't escape the class.

"I have heard that there have been injuries during this class?", she asked Greg Goyle, who put on a stupid-looking grin to avoid answering the question.

"That would be me", Theodore Nott called out. "Damn hippogryph almost took my arm off".

"A hippogryph?", Umbridge was scribbling on her board.

"Only because he was too fucking stupid to follow simple instructions", Lee Jordan called out.

Umbridge turned slowly to him: "Ten points from Gryffindor for interrupting, and ten points for your filthy mouth. Another word from any of you and it will be detention".

"How about you, Mr. Malfoy, you were there?"

"Yes".

"And?", Umbridge prompted.

"I didn't have any problems with the hippogryph", he kept it to the bare minimum. It was obvious Umbridge wasn't expecting that answer.

"How about you, Miss Weasley? You don't seem to have a lack of opinions. What is your impression of Professor Hagrid?"

"No comment", she was afraid this was another set-up, and that there were no good answers to give.

"My Dear, when I ask you a question, I expect an answer".

"We of Ravenclaw believe that Professor Hagrid's one weakness is he places too much emphasis on making the class fun… Not that…"

"That's enough"

"That's all I need to know, Professor Grubbly-Planc, you will receive your evaluation in ten days' time".

"Jolly good!"

 _Hogwarts: Transfiguration_

Umbridge was already there, sitting at a desk in the back of the classroom, as everyone arrived ahead of Professor McGonagall. She arrived a couple of minutes after everyone was seated.

"Lee, would you hand back the essays from last session?', she requested of Lee Jordan. He came forward to accept the stack of graded papers to hand out.

"Alicia?", she came forward to be handed a box of mice. "Don't be like that", McGoangall told her, "they won't bite. Hand one to every student", she requested.

So far, McGonagall didn't acknowledge Umbridge's presence.

"We will be continuing our lessons on the Vanishing Charm. Most of you have successfully vanished snails, though a few of you left behind bits of shell. Still, I believe all of you have gotten the gist of the charm. Simple animals, like snails which are invertebrates, are easier to Vanish than a more complex animal like a mouse. I warn you in advance, that you will have to concentrate a bit harder, and I don't mean on dinner…"

Today, Transfiguration was the last class of the day.

("Hem, hem")

"… Vanishing the more complex does require extra concentration as you prepare to cast. You already know the incantation and wand movement. Have you all received a mouse?"

("Hem, hem") Umbridge did that fake throat-clear, more insistently this time.

" _What?!"_ , McGonagall finally replied testily. Her eyebrows so close together they seemed to form one severe line.

"You have received your note naming the date and time of your audit?", Umbridge asked.

"Obviously I have", McGonagall said, "otherwise I would have asked you what you are doing in my classroom".

Students were exchanging looks of glee: McGonagall wasn't going to disappoint.

"As I was explaining, the vanishment of mice is a bit more challenging than snails…"

("Hem, hem")

McGonagall turned sharply to face Umbridge: "I don't see how you are going to understand my usual teaching methods if you keep interrupting me", she said with a cold fury. "I generally do not permit people to talk while I am talking".

The verbal smack-down hit Umbridge as well as a physical one would have. She adjusted the parchment and kept quiet.

"As I was trying to explain, you will need to get your minds off dinner and your rest of the evening plans if you are to succeed with today's assignment".

Perhaps Umbridge, for once, was facing an intimidating opponent. She didn't follow McGonagall around, nor did she interview students during the class. She remained in her corner, scribbling notes on her board.

When McGonagall called the close of the lesson, Alicia collected bits and pieces of partially vanished mice. As they were filing out, only then did Umbridge approach McGonagall.

"For how long have you been a Professor?", Umbridge asked.

"Thirty seven years this December", she replied.

"Very well, you will receive your evaluation in ten days' time".

"I can hardly wait", McGonagall replied with heavy sarcasm and a cold indifference.

 **0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF**

 _Hogwarts: Great Hall_

The morning owls came as usual, however, it became obvious that something was up. The owls came, thick and fast, and the pile of owlposts landing at the staff table grew ever higher.

The buzz around the hall grew in intensity.

"Da fuck?", Ron said at the Gryffndor table.

"No idea", Fred replied.

He soon had his answer as Luna was edging along the wall. She slipped something into Fred's hands. He skimmed a few pages, handed it to George.

"That explains it", Fred said.

"What?!", Ron asked, as he was always the last to know.

"Little Sis would make James green with envy…", Fred said. "I honestly didn't think she had it in her, pulling a prank like this".

"Queen of the pranksters", George agreed.

"Mr. Filch", Dumbledore ordered, "would you please close the windows so we can get on with serving".

"Right away", he said as he went for a ladder and the tool to close the high windows that admitted the morning owls.

"What's happened?", Minerva McGonagall asked. It was seldom she'd seen such a swarm of owls.

Dumbledore tore open an envelope, then another, and another…

"It would seem some folks out there are somewhat less than pleased with our High Inquisitor", he said as he handed her and the rest of the faculty a letter.

"Where's that little bitch?!", a red-faced Dolores Umbridge was storming through the halls.

"There you are!", she caught up with Ginny at the base of Ravenclaw Tower. "Come with me this instant!"

"What…"

"You _damn_ well know what you did! _Don't_ deny it! I'm gonna rip the hide right off your ass!", she threatened. There was no pretense about that faux-pleasant voice. She had one hand tightly around Ginny's arm, and a rattan cane in the other.

"Please!", Ginny said. "I… I… _Ididn'tdoanything!"_

Outside her office, she was confronted by Minerva McGonagall. Pomona Sprout, Severus Snape and Filius Flitwick.

Haven't you done enough damage?", McGonagall asked. Mouth very thin, and looking more hawkish than ever.

"You – _all of you_ – are interfering with a Ministry official! I'll have your jobs for this! This means Azkaban!"

Umbridge went for her wand, but Snape was faster on the draw. His wand, inches from her face.

"Give… Me… A… Reason", he drawled. A murderous fury radiated from those black eyes. "Please…"

"Severus, put it away", Dumbledore was arriving. "Minerva, would you see Miss Weasley to your office, while I discuss the matter with the High Inquisitor".

"Come, My Dear", Minerva offered a hand; Umbridge let her go.

"Shall we?", Dumbledore invited.

 _12 Grimmauld Pl._

"They're at it again", Moody said, "the latest from the Order of the Otter"

Everyone had a copy of the pamphlets that were showing up at Flourish and Blotts, and all over Magical Britain in news racks with a replication charm to prevent Ministry thugs from simply taking all the copies. The more they took, the faster they replicated.

 **IS TORTURE AN "EDUCATIONAL REFORM"?**

 _As you are undoubtedly aware, the main use of the Blood Quill is the signing of contracts, last wills and testaments, depositions, and other important legal documents. These quills were never intended to be instruments of torture of school children._

 _Yet, that is exactly how the newest Professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts – and lately the High Inquisitor – Dolores Umbridge is putting a Blood Quill to use. Miss Generva Weasley, Hogwarts student, was recently forced to use such a quill to do "lines" during a detention._

(Picture of Ginny displaying her bleeding hand)

 _Even this was not enough to satisfy the High Inquisitor. Umbridge then proceeded to cane the unfortunate student. The reason for the caning? Miss Weasley dared to express an honest opinion during a Defense Against the Dark Arts class._

(Picture of Ginny's welted buttocks)

 _It has also come to our attention that these punishments are motivated by a personal animus towards Miss Weasley. The latest outrage was the bare ass spanking she received in front of the entire class._

 _One of her classmates: "Umbridge spanked Ginny for saying she read our text completely. And asking to be excused from sitting in a classroom where she'd already done the work expected of us. She insulted Ginny, calling her "Miss Advanced Credit". We all heard her; we will swear to it"._

 _Miss Generva Weasley has been skipped forward one year as she earned the advanced placement credits for the promotion. Since when has doing the assigned class work been a justification for the humiliation of being bare ass spanked in front of one's peers and classmates?_

 _Though corporal punishment is not prohibited, we quote the Bylaws:_

Article Eight (Student Code of Conduct)

Section Seventeen (In School Discipline)

Clauses Six – Eight (Corporal Punishment)

Any Professor recommending corporal punishment of any student shall inform the Head of House of said student. It shall be the responsibility of the Head of House to inform the Headmaster/Headmistress of the recommended punishment. The Headmaster/Headmistress shall inform said student's parents or legal guardian of said punishment.

Any student so recommended for corporal punishment shall have the right of appeal to his/her Head of House, the Headmaster/Headmistress. The Board of Governors shall have the right to make the final determination of the student's case.

Said student shall present himself/herself to the Caretaker for the administration of said punishment, witnessed by said student's Head of House.

 _It is clear that the Bylaws were not only not followed in Miss Weasley's case, but that the High Inquisitor flouted those very laws put in place for the protection and well-being of Hogwarts students._

 _Therefore, we of the Order of the Otter demand the following:_

 _1) Headmaster Dumbledore shall resign immediately for cause of dereliction of duty to ensure that Hogwarts policy is followed._

 _2) Failing the resignation of Headmaster Dumbledore, we call on the Board of Governors to convene a special council for the termination for cause of Mr. Dumbledore._

 _3) We demand the immediate recall of High Inquisitor Umbridge._

 _4) We demand that the Wizengamot convene a special session for the investigation of High Inquisitor Umbridge's criminal conduct._

 _5) We demand that the Wizengamot rescind Minister Fudge's "Educational Decrees", that the Minister's Office cease and desist from usurping the authority of the Board of Governors._

 _We recommend to the parents of current Hogwarts students, and the parents of future students, send owlposts to Headmaster Dumbledore demanding that their children be opted out of any corporal punishments. Do keep your posts respectful._

 _Copies should also be sent to:_

 _High Inquisitor Umbridge c/o Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_

 _Junior Undersecretary Percy Weasley c/o the Ministry of Magic_

 _Madam Chairman Augusta Longbottom, c/o the Board of Governors_

 _We recommend that graduates of Hogwarts cancel donations and place a hold on endowments so long as High Inquisitor Umbridge remains at Hogwarts._

 _We, of the Order of the Otter, thank you for your consideration._

"This Order of the Otter just handed Albus over to Fudge on a sliver platter", Mad Eye said. "It wouldn't surprise me if Fudge himself wasn't behind the whole damned thing. If he wasn't, he couldn't've ordered up a better excuse to get rid of the _only_ person who stands between Hewhomustnotbenamed and _total_ capitulation".

"Are you saying…", Molly began, "… that he should have done nothing? While that evil woman did this to Ginny?"

" _Yes!",_ said Mad Eye. "There are more important things at stake here than Ginny's sore butt! I understand maternal instincts, but no ass whipping never done no kid no harm. Muggle kids behaved much better back when they got the cane".

"And Blood Quills that… disfigure… Ginny…", Molly melted down into a puddle of tears.

"That's quite enough, Alistair", Dumbledore said. "Just how many Hogwarts students are you willing to sacrifice? One? Ten? A hundred?"

"This is war…", Mad Eye said.

" _Children_ are _not_ collateral damage!", Tonks exclaimed.

"Everybody: just calm down", Lupin called out. "Let's figure this out. It's obvious now that they have agents within Hogwarts, but who? What was their motivation?"

"I already told you…", Mad Eye began.

"It serves no good to be jumping to conclusions. That was Cornelius' big mistake. Let us not repeat it", Dumbledore said. "I agree: it makes my position a bit more precarious: Cornelius could find an excuse to remove me, that is true. However, I doubt he will. As they pointed out, his High Inquisitor did not follow the Bylaws. Ms. Umbridge did use a Blood Quill as a means of inflicting unnecessary torment on a thirteen year old girl. Cornelius isn't stupid, not by any means, and that will come out should he pursue any attempts to remove me from Hogwarts".

"They have it in for Fudge?", Tonks offered. "They know, as well as we, that Fudge is the problem. Umbridge is well known as his First Secretary, after all. He was so proud of his educational reforms, so figuring on using the state of Hogwarts as a distraction. Removing that distraction can only serve our cause".

"I think we shouldn't discount the possibility that their concerns for the kids is genuine", Hestia Jones offered. "Fudge made a bad choice with Umbridge. We all know she was sent there to take down Albus. This can work in our favour if it helps rid us of Umbridge".

"Nonsense!", thundered Mad Eye, "if that were the case, then they wouldn't be calling for Dumbledore's resignation or termination!"

"Mad Eye, not everything is a conspiracy", Tonks reminded. "In all honesty, I'm glad they called attention to what Fudge is doing…"

"It's a distraction! What does calling attention to internal Hogwarts business have to do with opposing the Dark Lord?!"

"Everything", she reminded, "Fudge can only discredit Albus so long as he has the confidence of the public. How much confidence do you think they'll have now? Especially when the _Prophet_ tries to downplay and memory hole the incident? As for why they would call for Albus' resignation, how would it look if they hadn't? If they remained silent? After all, Albus _is_ responsible for everything that goes on at Hogwarts".

"Indeed, I am. I am considering resigning…", Dumbledore said.

"Surely you jest", Mad Eye said.

"No, Alistair, I am not. Were I to resign, it would lend credibility to what the Order of the Otter wrote. This would likely lead to a vote of No Confidence, and the end of Cornelius' office. On the other hand, he would undoubtedly appoint Umbridge as Headmistress, and there is no limit as to the danger this would mean for the students. We have already seen how unhinged Ms Umbridge is. I expect that after a decent interval, Cornelius will replace her with another High Inquisitor.

"Alistair, now is not the time to panic. As for the Order of the Otter, they did the right thing. As for the High Inquisitor, I have had a good long talk with her, made it clear to her that she is not to use Blood Quills and she follows the Bylaws. Furthermore, I have taken into consideration the wishes of those parents, and they are the majority overwhelmingly who do not want their children subjected to such punishments".

 **0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF**

 _London: Ministry of Magic_

"You sent for me?", Dolores Umbridge said as she entered Cornelius Fudge's office. "What's so urgent that it couldn't wait for an owl?"

"Yes, Dolores, I did. I gave you a simple assignment and three objectives: get something we can use to have Dumbledore dismissed, purge the faculty of Dumbledore's charity cases, and prevent any combat training…

"How could you FUCK this up?!"

"I… don't understand…"

"A Blood Quill! A bloody Blood Quill! _For the love of Merlin, what the FUCK were you thinking?!"_

"How else am I to be respected by these kids? That Weasley girl told the whole class that Youknowwho was back! She _contradicted_ me when I said it was a lie!"

"Three. Simple. Objectives. Dolores: I don't give a damn whether they respect you or not. If you felt it necessary, an ordinary detention with lines done with a regular quill would have been more than sufficient. You have _no_ idea what you've done here, do you?"

He didn't wait for an answer.

"You have made my position that much more difficult. Percy has been receiving letters all morning demanding that you be dismissed, and that their children not be subjected to the Blood Quill or ass whippings. Dumbledore will, of course, grant their requests. He will come out of this more popular than ever.

"I can't recall you, much as I would like to, because I can not be seen to be giving in to this Order of the Otter".

"Those kids…"

" _You will forget those kids, Dolores!_ You will return to Hogwarts, and you will do _nothing_ to Miss Weasley; you will make _no_ attempt to discover who told this Order of the Otter. If they do anything the least bit disrespectful _you_ will _ignore_ it!

"I have my contacts with the _Prophet_ doing damage control. And I do not need any further provocations on your part. You will carry out your objectives, and you will not mistreat any student regardless of how disrespectful they are to you.

"Am I making myself clear here?"

"Yes, Mr. Minister".

 **MYSTERY GROUP MAKES ACCUSATIONS, ISSUES DEMANDS**

" _There is no denying that a mysterious organization has leveled serious accusations against the new High Inquisitor of Hogwarts, sent to implement the Ministry's educational initiatives._

" _The Ministry will not allow a small, but vocal, group of malcontents to dictate policy", says Junior Undersecretary Percy Weasley. "If these accusations held any validity, then why do our accusers hide behind the name: Order of the Otter? What does that even mean? If they don't have the courage to face us directly, then why should we take any of their overblown demands the least bit seriously? As we have no idea as to who they are, how are we to answer them? Are we not entitled to face our accusers?_

" _We have no evidence that High Inquisitor Umbridge 'abused' the student in question. Not a word from any member of the faculty, including Miss Weasley's Head of House, Mr. Filius Flitwick, and certainly not from the Headmaster himself. More and more, this is looking like a case of a student who was punished for her misbehaviour, and decided to take it out on those with legitimate authority over her, including the authority to punish. If High Inquisitor Umbridge is guilty of anything, it is being a strict disciplinarian. Is this a bad quality in an educator? Mr. Fudge doesn't believe so._

" _We have known for years that one of the problems that afflicts Hogwarts is the lax discipline, and over indulgence on the part of the faculty. To correct the problem, strict discipline may be required temporarily, including the paddling, caning, and spanking of misbehaving students"._

 _Madam Chairman Augusta Longbottom: "I have read the pamphlet from the Order of the Otter, and the accusations are indeed serious ones. However, with no ability to hear testimony, there is nothing the Board is prepared to do, let alone dismiss the Headmaster, based on what amounts to hear-say, second hand, evidence. Even if one or more members of this group were to come forward, the Board does not admit hear-say testimony. The authors of this pamphlet are under the impression that the Board of Governors is some sort of Star Chamber. I can assure you: it is nothing of the sort. Without the ability of the accused to face his accusers, there can be no hearings"._

 _We, the editors of the Daily Prophet, advise the public to pay no attention to these rumours spread by those who don't have the courage or conviction to come forward with accusations of malfeasance at Hogwarts – or anywhere else, for that matter._

 _Hogwarts: Headmaster's Office_

"Molly, Arthur, I've been expecting you", Dumbledore greeted as Arthur and Molly Weasley flooed to Dumbledore's office.

"Albus, how _could_ you…", Molly began.

"I am truly sorry", Dumbledore apologized. "I knew nothing about it, as Ginny didn't see fit to come to me. You have to understand, there is very little I can do. Cornelius has taken the control of the school from my hands. I think we already knew that, as he believes I would actually use Defense Against the Dark Arts to train up a children's crusade against the Ministry itself.

"Despite the precariousness of my position, I would never allow the abuse of any of my students, or allow any student to be used as a pawn in Cornelius' schemes. I would resign and take it to the public myself. I must ask: what do you know about this Order of the Otter? Arthur? Molly?"

"Only what I know from seeing their pamphlets", Molly said.

"I wonder why did Ginny fail to confide in me that Ms Umbridge used a Blood Quill to make her do lines? I can only answer that question by assuming she is involved with this Order of the Otter, or that she is close to those who are. That they have eyes and ears here in the castle is a given. How else would they obtain those pictures? Where, and why, did she acquire such a distrust in me? I think you know".

"We know…"

"Arthur!"

"We can't tell you anything, we owe a Life Debt to the Order of the Otter", Arthur explained.

"This would be on the occasion of Ginny's near death from Tom Riddle's diary?"

"They sent someone to the Burrow after we took Ginny home to – we believed – die in peace. Someone who knew what to do when no one else did. That someone saved Ginny's life, and asked in return that we tell you nothing. They don't trust you, and to be frank about it, we are this close (thumb and finger together) to doing the same", Arthur explained.

"What, may I ask, brought this on?"

"Your manipulation of Harry Potter, that you would use that boy as a weapon against Youknowwho. Oh yes, Albus, we know about the prophecy – the prophecy _you_ failed to ever mention at any time while you were at the Burrow, or at Headquarters", Molly added.

"There is a reason why I didn't mention the prophecy", Dumbledore explained. "Lord Voldemort knows about the prophecy, however, he heard only a part of it, not the prophecy in its entirety. It is critical that he not know, and the fewer people who know about it, the less chance Voldemort has to discover it. He wouldn't hesitate to torture anyone he suspected of knowing. This is why I haven't mentioned it. Keeping it secure is one of our top priorities.

"It was for this cause that Sturgis Podmore is doing six months in Azkaban, why he declined to put up a legal defense for the charges of trespass and attempted breaking and entering. He attempted to break into the Hall of Prophecies, not to take the prophecy, but to destroy it to keep Voldemort from taking it, which he can as the prophecy concerns him just as much as Harry Potter. This is why Arthur is doing his part patrolling the corridor outside the Department of Mysteries".

"That's why you haven't been coming home?", Molly asked.

"Yes, Dear, though I had no idea what I was protecting".

"Minerva, would you show them in"

McGonagall went to the door: "You can come in now"

Professor Flitwick and Ginny entered the office.

"Mom, Dad?", she asked.

Molly gave the girl a smothering hug: "Ginny, so sorry… So… Sorry…"

"It's OK, Mom. I'm all right…"

"What that foul woman did to you…"

"Are you OK?", Arthur asked, "Really OK? Please be honest with us. We can take it".

"Yes, I'm OK. Professor Snape gave me a potion to remove the scars and stop the pain".

"Thank Merlin", Molly said, "I was afraid that evil woman might have scarred you for life".

"Mr, Mrs Weasley", Flitwick said, "I'm afraid it's all my fault".

"How do you mean?", Arthur asked.

"I told Ginny that it would do no good to take the matter of the Blood Quill to the Headmaster. It's that Umbridge woman: Fudge sent her here to usurp the Headmaster's authority. I believed I was doing the right thing by not making more trouble for my student. I see now that I was wrong. I'm sorry".

"I have seen to it that Ginny will be left alone, that Umbridge won't attempt to get even. As Ginny has completed the work Professor Umbridge assigned the class, she is excused from further classes, unless it's to take exams. You need not have any fear that there will be more incidents, as I am separating Ginny from Ms. Umbridge to the fullest extent I am able".

"We appreciate that, Albus".

"Thank you, Professor", Ginny said.

"You are quite welcome, Miss Weasley"

"One other thing, Arthur", Dumbledore requested. "I assume that you have been in contact with the Order of the Otter – no need to answer – would you propose that they join forces with us. They have resources we do not, and I suspect that would include Amelia Bones and her aurors. We have resources they do not. It would be to our mutual benefit were we to work together".

The next day in the Great Hall, Umbridge approached Ginny, a copy of _Is Torture an Educational Reform_ in hands shaking with rage.

"How you could… how you _dare…",_ it was obvious she was furious. She took a deep breathe to compose herself: "I have tried, again and again, to teach you not to tell lies. It would seem the message is not sinking in. Fifty points from Ravenclaw, and another week of detention, starting at 5:00 this evening".

"No, I won't", Ginny replied.

"You won't what?", Umbridge asked, incredulous at this show of defiance.

"In accordance with the Bylaws, I shall inform my Head of House that I am contesting your detention. I am furthermore prepared to take the matter all the way to the Board. Until I receive a ruling, I am not obliged to do any detentions".

"You little…"

Ginny cringed and ducked as Umbridge drew back a hand. She thought better of delivering the slap across the face.

"Another fifty points from Ravenclaw for your insolence".

"Is there a problem?", Dumbledore asked as he'd left the staff table.

"Headmaster, now that you are here, I am informing you that I am contesting the detention the High Inquisitor just gave me. If you would inform Professor Flitwick for me".

"That is, of course, your right", Dumbledore informed them. "What has Miss Weasley done that warrants a detention?"

" _This!"_ , Umbridge thrust the Order of the Otter pamphlet at Dumbledore.

"I see… did you, perhaps, confiscate that pamphlet from Miss Weasley?"

She hesitated, considering lying about it, but one look confirmed that everyone sitting at the Ravenclaw table was paying them their undivided attention. Too many potential witnesses who would say that Ginny hadn't had the pamphlet on her.

"No, but…"

"Has Miss Weasley been distributing them here in the Great Hall?"

"No, but…"

"Then I fail to see any justification for giving Miss Weasley any detention, as she has done nothing wrong".

" _But she told them!"_

"I know no such thing, but even if she had, that is not worthy of a detention so long as freedom of speech exists. There are no rules governing with whom any student may or may not talk".

" _There is the matter of her insolent behaviour!"_

"Availing herself of the provisions of the Bylaws is not insolence. There is no cause for assigning Miss Weasley detention, and I declare this detention null and void".

"I will take this up with the Ministry Dumbledore".

"That is, of course, your right, but I would advise against it. You will not prevail, and I think we know that".

Umbridge turned and slammed the door to the Great Hall behind her. As soon as she did, the tables erupted in raucous cheering. Ginny returned to the Ravenclaw table to back slaps, hair mussing, and congratulations…

"Si-Lence!", Dumbledore called out.

When the noise died down: "All of you will show the High Inquisitor the respect that is due her office. Another disgraceful display, and it will be _I_ who assigns the detentions. Is that clear?"

Regardless of what Dumbledore said, Ginny was greeted for the rest of the day with thumbs up and high-fives. That evening, she returned to Ravenclaw Tower to a hero's welcome.

By mid-morning, new signs had gone up all over Hogwarts, not just on the bulletin boards in the common rooms, but in the corridors and the classrooms.

 **By order of**

 **The High Inquisitor**

 **Any student found in possession of any publication from**

 **The Order of the Otter will be summarily expelled.**

 **The above is in accordance with Educational Decree Twenty Four**

 **Signed:**

 **Dolores Jane Umbridge**

 **High Inquisitor**

The only thing Umbridge accomplished was to call attention that the Order of the Otter existed, for those who had never heard of it, and to the pamphlet that vexed her so. Students who had copies passed them around to their friends who didn't. They quoted passages, especially about the Bylaws, and how they had the right of appeal that they hadn't known about before. This while waiting for class to begin, or friends gathered into small groups that went silent whenever any professors came near.

Meanwhile, Umbridge was stalking the school, stopping students at random in the hallways, demanding they turn out pockets and book bags. The students were, however, a step ahead. Copies of _Is Torture an Educational Reform_ were bewitched to look like ordinary class notes. Or parchment with the pamphlet reproduced looking like blank sheets to anyone other than the owner.

It had become obvious that Umbridge had lost the confidence of the faculty when, during Herbology, Professor Sprout awarded Ravenclaw twenty points after Michael Corner filled a watering can for her.

In Transfigurations, McGonagall awarded Ravenclaw twenty points when Alexis Goldstein volunteered to distribute the mice.

In Potions, Snape awarded Ravenclaw two points for each Ravenclaw student who received a grade of 'A' or better for their essays (that was all of them). Two more points for both Ravenclaw and the House of any other student with a passing grade or better.

By the last class of the day, Ravenclaw had more than made up for the 100 points Umbridge docked the House. There was also the fact that the professors were telling their students about what they'd heard coming from the Headmaster and from the Ministry. No, there was no possibility that Dumbledore would be dismissed. Madam Longbottom had seen to that, and there would be no hearing. No, Umbridge was not going to be recalled, Fudge wasn't going to capitulate to the demands of some anonymous group. Yes, corporal punishment was out of the question: Dumbledore was not going to approve (much to Filch's disappointment) this was the one concession the Minister was willing to make to the Order. So far, it looked like the Minister was reining in his High Inquisitor.

As they were leaving yet another DADA lesson that was little more than a quiet study hall, Luna said: "Yannow, this is such a waste of time, I wouldn't mind getting my ass whipped if it got me out of class. We'd do better learning by ourselves", she said in that dreamy, like she wasn't all there, manner.

"You just might be onto something", Draco said. "Maybe give this some more thought".

 _Hogwarts: Slytherin Common Room_

Draco, Luna, Millicent, Greg, and Blaise were together at one of the tables.

"What were you saying about learning Defense on our own?", Draco asked for more details.

"I dunnow", Luna began, "I was just thinking out loud. I really didn't mean anything by it".

"I still think it's a good idea", Draco said. "We can't do any worse for ourselves than the big, fat nothing Umbitch is giving us".

"So how would we go about learning Defense on our own?", Greg Goyle asked. "Hire a tutor? Opt out of Umbridge's class?"

"That won't work", Millicent objected, "you know why Umbridge is here? To prevent us from learning any defense, I highly doubt she would let us hire tutors, no matter how sympathetic Dumbledore would be to the idea".

"We have to do something", Blaise said, "I sit OWLs this year. How can I expect to pass the practicals if I haven't practiced defense all year? How do we do this? Books from the library about jinxes and counter spells? Book learning isn't the same as doing. We'd need someone who knows and would be willing to show us what we're doing right and what we're not".

"How 'bout Ginny?", Luna offered a suggestion. "Remember last year? How she dropped Mad Eye in his own class? The whole school was talking about it".

"Would she? Ginny's also at the head of Umbridge's shit list", Blaise pointed out. "She may very well decline, and I, for one, wouldn't blame her.

"The other major problem is where would we practice? An unused classroom, but then Umbridge would surely discover what we're doing the first time she sees all of us going into a supposedly vacant classroom".

"That's the least of our problems", Draco said, "there's a hidden room right here in the castle, up on the seventh floor…"

"No shit?", Greg asked.

"None", Draco said, "you know that tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy? It's opposite that. I'll betcha Umbitch knows nothing about it".

"Who do we get, though?"

"I know some people", Draco said, "I'll ask around…"

"The Order of the Otter?", Millicent whispered.

"I didn't say that", Draco said. "Why would…"

"You have a thing for Ginny, then Umbridge has her slicing her hand with that Blood Quill, she gets her ass whipped black and blue, and then this Order puts out a pamphlet telling everyone all about it. Not too hard to figure, Draco".

"Umbitch hasn't, so keep that to yourself".

"I think", Luna said, "if we're going to do this, we should bring in anyone who wants to learn. Blaise isn't the only one sitting OWLs this year".

"The whole fucking school?", Greg objected, "you really are Looney, Luna".

"We have a Hogsmeade weekend coming up", Draco pointed out, "I suggest we wait, discuss it at that time, less chance of anyone's finding out. I suggest the Hogs Head, no one goes there. Give me time to ask around, find us an instructor".


	40. Dumbledore's Army

**Dumbledore's Army**

After the meet-up in the Common Room, Draco coded another message. This one a bit longer. Two and a half pages of random numbers went up in flame, and Draco went up to the owlery. It was a slow Saturday, though there would be Quiddich practice later that afternoon. Draco was pleased to see that the sky was clear, sun shining, as that wasn't happening very often since they started the new term.

"I wouldn't go that way, if I were you". Nearly Headless Nick drifted through the wall. "Peeves is planning a prank on the first person he sees passing that bust of Paracelsus".

"I see… This wouldn't involve making Paracelsus drop on the unfortunate mark's head".

"Actually, it does. Subtlety has never been Peeves' style".

He knew the bust well. "That could cause a serious injury".

"I know, that's why I'm on my way to see the Bloody Baron. He's the only one who has any influence over Peeves".

"Thanks for the warning".

This would mean taking the long way to the owlery, but it was worth it to avoid Peeves. He felt something brush past his ankles: it was Mrs Norris, Filch's cat. Mrs Norris turned those yellow, lamp-like eyes towards him as he was brushing off the cat hair.

"You know, you really should ask Filch for a good brushing. You need it".

Mrs Norris took off down the hall, intent on reporting to her master. He'd seen that look before when she witnessed youthful misbehaviours.

"Oi!", Draco called out, "I'm not doing anything wrong".

Up in the owlery the paneless windows let in thick silvery beams of sunlight criss-crossing the floor. Owls perched up in the rafters, some restless in the morning light, some returning from a night of hunting. Some belonging to students, some the school owls. The Malfoy eagle owl flew down at his call.

"Message for you", Draco said as he tied the letter to the owl's leg, "this goes to Owlery Holt and Lucius". He took the owl to the window and sent him on his way. "Safe flight".

He paused to look out over the Forbidden Forest where the tree tops were swaying gently in a light breeze. He took in the fresh air, thankful that at least Filch was taking better care of the owlery. The door opened, and startled him a bit.

It was Cho Chang, the Ravenclaw Seeker, and boyfriend of Cedric Diggory. She had both a letter and a package.

"Oh hi", Draco said.

"Hi, yourself", she replied. "I almost forgot, my Mum's birthday is today", as she held up the package.

"Good thing you remembered. The 'rents wouldn't let you live that down".

"You know what they say, 'Out of sight, out of mind'… Is Slytherin ready to get their asses kicked?"

"You wish"

The next Quiddich match-up would be Team Slytherin v. Team Gryffindor. Team Ravenclaw, though, was doing unexpectedly well this year. No one wanted to say it, but they all knew: losing Cedric put Team Hufflepuff in the cellar.

Cho selected one of the school's barn owls, and began attaching her letter and package to its outstretched leg.

"You wouldn't happen to know if Gryffindor found a new Keeper yet?", Cho asked

"Yeah, they did: Ron Weasley".

"He any good?"

"No. I don't know what Angelina could've been thinking. Like everything else, Ron didn't inherit any of Bill's or Charles' Quiddich talent. Though Quiddich runs in the family".

Filch burst into the room, wheezing heavily, purple splotches on his sunken cheeks, jowls aquiver, thinning gray hair disheveled. Mrs Norris came trotting just behind him. The cat looked up hungrily at the owls, who fluttered wings, and sidestepped on the rafters at the presence of the predator. One barn owl snapped his beak threateningly at the cat. It was obvious Filch had run all the way up here. He took a flat-footed step forward.

"Aha! I have it on good authority, Malfoy, that you are sending off a large order for Dungbombs. Hand it over!"

"Who told you I was ordering Dungbombs?", he asked, arms crossed.

"I have my sources", he said with a self-satisfied hiss. "I'll ask just one more time, hand over what you were sending".

"Can't. Already sent it"

"Already sent it?!"

"That's what I said"

Filch stood there, looking and examining.

"How do I know you don't have it in a pocket?"

"Because", Cho said, "I saw him send it".

"You saw him?", Filch asked.

"Yes, maybe it was for Dungbombs, or maybe not. I don't know one way or another, but it's definitely gone".

"And you Missy…"

"Package for my mother's B-day, and, no, you _can't_ see".

"Malfoy, if I catch so much as a _whif_ f of a Dungbomb..."

Nothing more to be done, Filch turned to leave, Mrs Norris followed after one last, longing look at the owls.

"Thanks for covering for me", Draco said.

"No problem… You _weren't_ ordering Dungbombs, were you?", she gave him a slightly suspicious look.

"Why would I want those? That's more Fred's and George's style. And, no, I wouldn't cover for them by ordering for them, and they know it".

"Then I wonder why he thought you were?"

"No idea".

 _Owlery Holt_

"Latest from Hogwarts", Lucius informed Sirius, Harry, Amelia and Susan. He'd set up his desk top to decrypt the message:

Draco: need a spot of help with Arithmancy: (Sent in plain text in case anyone intercepted it.)

 _we aren't learning proper defense thanks to umbitch which presents problems with what we are to do once we leave the safe confines of hogwarts as well as how we will ever hope to pass our owls luna made an off hand comment about learning defense on our own even though she wasn't serious at first blaise zambini millicent bulstrode greg goyle and me think there is merit to this suggestion what we need is a proper tutor to teach us in the come and go room will discuss further on the next hogsmeade weekend._

"What do you think?"

"Sounds like a plan", Sirius said. "That's what James would have done".

"I have my doubts as to just how secure that room is", Lucius explained. "The house elves all know; I have good reason to believe Riddle knows, and since Umbridge graduated, who knows if she knows?"

"We have awhile", Lucius said. "I'll check it out".

"I'd be more than willing to teach them defense", Amelia offered. "I could use an assistant, if you wouldn't mind, Harry?"

"I can do that, learned a thing or two from Remus… I'm still on the run from the law, so it wouldn't be such a good idea, would it? Getting caught at Hogwarts".

"That would've made it that much more fun for James", Sirius reminded.

"I'm sure it would have, but I'm not James, yannow. I don't exactly fancy a stint in Azkaban…"

"It's not a problem", Lucius said, "I can supply you with an emergency portkey that'll send you back here in case there's a problem. Hogwarts wards don't block technomage portkeys, and the Ministry can't detect them either. I'll have another look around that Room of Requirement, see just how secure it is, and whether it's a viable alternative. I'd like to keep as many as far in the dark about Owlery Holt for as long as I can".

"May be some doggin' around Hogsmeade?", Sirius said. "Could use more of that Hogwarts chow".

"OK, Sirius, I'll make one for you too. I still think it's a bad idea, but I know that never stopped you before".

 _Hogwarts: Defense Against the Dark Arts_

"Good afternoon, class", Umbridge greeted in that faux-pleasant manner, as though she actually believed her students liked her.

"Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge", they said as a matter of course.

"Wands away", Umbridge ordered, though not a single student had their wand out. It was obvious that there would never be a need for them.

"I see Miss Weasley has decided to grace us with her presence today".

She looked down, away from Umbridge, so that she couldn't get a hint from her eyes what she was really thinking.

"Today, we have an examination on the first two chapters that I hope all of you have read and comprehended. We shall find out".

Umbridge handed the first student a stack of parchments: "Take one and pass the rest back".

After everyone had a test paper, their quills and ink pots ready: "Begin, you have the rest of the period to complete your exam. There will be no need for talk".

There was no sound other than the scratching of quills. Umbridge sat behind her desk, surveying her class for the slightest hint of unauthorized peeking at others' tests. Ginny knew that Umbridge was giving her extra scrutiny.

"Quills down", she ordered at the end of the period, "pass your papers forward".

 _Owlery Holt_

"Let us hear from Lucius", Lutra started the meeting.

"Our pamphlet has set off a real shitstorm inside the Ministry", Malfoy explained, "as we figured. Fudge is most displeased with his High Inquisitor for using Blood Quills and corporal punishment. She definitely abused her authority, and he is not happy. He has made it clear that he doesn't want to see further incidents of abuse. As we predicted, the _Prophet_ has tried to downplay and discredit us. It was a very transparent attempt that is not being believed, as Percy's office has received many letters, demanding the recall of Umbridge.

"Also, Dumbledore has received letters from nearly all the parents demanding that their children not be subjected to any form of corporal punishment, and Dumbledore is all too willing to prohibit it on the campus. It's only a question of time, however, before Fudge either overrules Dumbledore and/or Umbridge steps over the line again. I would not discount the possibility. We don't know what Umbridge may have on Cornelius. As you know, he has been using his First Secretary to do those kinds of jobs he can't be seen doing himself".

"How does this affect Dumbledore's position?", Lutra asked.

"It has strengthened it considerably. His support on the Board has increased, due partially to Madam Longbottom's lobbying the other members, and also due to his quick stand against corporal punishment. There are some around the Ministry who do not approve, as they claim he's giving in to what the _Prophet_ claimed was a 'vocal minority of malcontents'. Naturally, Fudge is not pleased, as this makes it all the more difficult to find a pretext to remove him".

"I have heard from Arthur Weasley", Lutra announced. "Dumbledore knows about his connections with the Order; it was unavoidable, all things considered. He didn't tell anything more than that, citing the Life Debt the family owes for Ginny. Dumbledore said he wants a meet-up, to discuss the possibility that we work with his Order of the Phoenix".

" _Still_ trying to get to me", Harry said.

"I would advise against it", Lucius said. "He's a conniving deceiver who can't be trusted".

"I would keep the possibility open to further consideration", Lutra said. "As for the Order of the Phoenix, Arthur told me he has the members on rotation to guard the Hall of Prophecies. They don't know the prophecy is long gone".

"I don't suppose they would", Amelia explained. "I didn't tell him after learning that myself, it never came up, and since I'm no longer with the Ministry, I don't see how".

"He knows", Harry said, "my damn scar has been acting up, and it tingles almost all the time…"

"Not unexpected, now that Voldemort's reincarnated", Sirius said.

"I also sense that he's growing more impatient and frustrated over something that's not happening fast enough to suit him. I can't see exactly what that is. I've had this recurring dream", Harry explained, "a long, dark corridor and a blank door. I get the impression he wants something…"

"Harry! You should block out those dreams!", Sirius called out.

"I agree…", Amelia started.

"That's up to Harry to decide", Lutra said, "however I would advise against that. If I can lock onto Voldemort, I can triangulate his hiding place. It's also to our benefit to have more information on him. If we can lure him in, we just might be able to put a stop to him".

"He can't die", Harry said.

"No, he can't", Lutra agreed. "He _can_ be sent back to a nearly powerless, wraith-like state. It would take him a good long while to reincarnate again".

"Not this time", Sirius objected, "the last time, his followers didn't really believe he'd come back. This time, they've seen him do it, and will come looking right away".

"Still buy us valuable time", Lutra pointed out. "So far, all has been quiet on the Voldemort front. Nothing from the Prophet or the normie press about any strange occurrences that might be traced back to him".

"Still consolidating his forces", Amelia said.

"That's a reasonable assumption", Lutra agreed. "It would also seem he's become quite obsessed with this prophecy. The more distracted he is, the less harm he can do".

"If he doesn't know, can we fake it? Let him have a false prophecy?", Amelia asked.

"I'll look into it", Lutra said.

After the meeting, Harry wandered over to where Susan was drawing something.

"Watcha working on?", he asked.

"Oh, nothing, really… Just an idea I had".

"Kind'a creepy, if you ask me".

 _Hogwarts: Slytherin Dorms_

Well after lights-out, Lucius apparated himself into the dorms, cast the Muffliato privacy charm, and leaped into Draco's bed.

"Uhhhhh…", Draco awakened to face licking. He sat up.

"Lucius?"

"I'm here to inspect that Room of Requirement to see how secure it really is. I have someone lined up to teach you defense on the sly".

"Who?"

"Amelia Bones, the x-auror: you can't do better than that. I also need another favour".

"And that would be?"

"Need to get into the kitchens. The house elves seem to know all about that Room, more than any students, even Dumbledore himself, and I'm hoping that Umbridge doesn't know about it".

"I'll have a word with Fred and George again. Need more chow for Sirius?"

"And Harry, and Amelia, and Susan".

"Have them meet me during the afternoon break".

"I'll take care of it".

Fred and George went to the kitchen after class.

"You down here, Fuzzball?"

Lucius slipped out from under Harry's invisibility cloak: "Right here".

"Shall we?", Fred tickled the pear, and the door appeared.

"Master Fred, Master George", Tippy greeted, "what can we do for you today?"

"Fill 'er up", as he handed over the food pack. "Loads of mouths to feed, anything but fish".

"More than your friend from before?"

"Yep, he and three others".

"Right away".

"Lucius is waiting for you outside, he needs a word".

"Surely, Masters"

While the other elves were getting the left-overs, Tippy slipped out.

"Lucius", he greeted, remembering to not address him as "Master".

"What can you tell me about the Come and Go Room?"

"You know…"

"That's not what I mean. How secure is it? How many know about it?"

"All we elves, of course. Master Dumbledore knows, he discovered it last December or November, if I recall".

"Sure took him long enough, if that's true. Dumbledore's knowing isn't so much of a problem. Anyone else? The rest of the faculty, the staff?"

"Tippy not know about the Professors, but Master Filch knows…"

"Fuck! Are you _sure_?"

"He thinks the Room is a self-replenishing closet. He goes up there when he runs out of cleaning supplies. Tippy pretty sure he don't suspect there's more to it. Seen him up there lots, but that's all he does, gather new supplies".

"OK, we can work around that. How about Umbridge?"

"Tippy not know. Never seen Mistress Umbridge on the seventh floor".

"She did graduate?"

"That was before Tippy's time here. No idea if she heard of it. She wouldn't hear about it from us".

"How do you know?"

"Mistress hates all half-breeds, mudbloods, sapient non-humans. She wouldn't ask, and we wouldn't tell unless Master Dumbledore said we must, and he has not ordered we elves to co-operate with her in any manner".

"How do you secure the Room?"

"Oh, that's easy: you say what you want…"

"If I didn't want Umbridge barging in there…"

"Then that is what you say, 'Don't let Umbridge in' then, the Room won't open for her".

"You're sure about that?"

"As sure as Tippy can be".

"How's Winky doing?"

"Some better, sometimes she still gets drunk, but only when she's off-duty. Still pines for her old master, still ashamed over being given clothes".

"Thanks for all your help".

"Any time, Lucius. Tippy not like what is happening at Hogwarts".

"Believe me, you're not alone".

 **0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF**

The Order of the Otter got out the second edition of _A Tale of Two Toms_. This one described the reincarnation of the Dark Lord, as best as Harry recalled his vision: the reincarnation in the grave yard outside Little Hangleton, the murder of Cedric Diggory and his interment in Tom Riddle Sr's grave. The conversation Fudge had with Dumbledore in Madam Pomphrey's infirmary, and the Minister's refusal to consider that Dumbledore might have been right that Voldemort made good on his promises to return.

"Here's the deal", Lucius was explaining to Harry and Amelia, "we can use the Come and Go Room. Dumbledore knows about it, but I think he'll be more than willing to look the other way. Filch also knows, but seeing how he's a squib, his knowledge is very limited. He would tell Umbridge if he thought there was something in it for himself.

"What we need is to make sure you ask the Room for _exactly_ what you want, who you want to let in, and more critically, who you want to exclude. Got that from the house elves".

"That's all well and good, but what happens when Umbridge notices Draco and all his friends always heading for the seventh floor? Secrets don't stay secret for very long at Hogwarts", Amelia reminded.

"I've written Hermione, she might know something", Harry told her. "She knows quite a few jinxes".

"What about these house elves?"

"No need to worry about them: Umbridge won't ask as she holds them in utter contempt. She would never admit they know something she doesn't".

"What about this Hogsmeade weekend?"

"Padfoot will be keeping an eye out", Sirius explained.

"I do wish you'd reconsider", Harry complained.

"You worry too much".

 **0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF**

The morning of the Hogsmeade weekend dawned bright and warm, a miracle considering this was the first weekend of October in the Highlands. The timing just right, as Murphy seemed to be sleeping for once. After breakfast, everyone who was going lined up at the main entrance. They had to pass Filch's inspection to see that everyone had the proper parental approval to leave campus. When it was Draco's turn, Filch inhaled noisily and obviously. He then pulled Luna aside. She was wearing a flowery outfit with a high hemline. Filch made her stand up straight, arms at her sides. The hemline barely touched the ends of her fingertips, barely "legal". She was also wearing a butterbeer cap necklace, those radish earrings, and Flitterbloom flowers in her hair, feet bare. She looked like a flower child straight off the Height in 1967.

They proceeded down the steps, into the bright, unseasonably warm, day.

"What was Filch sniffing you for?", Millicent asked. "Looks pretty creepy, if you ask me. He looks enough like a perv as it is".

"I suppose he was trying to detect the scent of Dungbombs".

"Why would he do that?"

"Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you…"

He recounted what happened in the owlery, how Filch burst in as he finished sending off an owl, accusing him of ordering Dungbombs. Cho was there to vouch for him, as she was up there, sending off a birthday present for her Mum.

"Why would he think you were ordering Dungbombs?", Luna asked. She seemed a good deal more interested in the incident than he was.

"Said someone told him I was".

"Who would say that?"

"I dunnow, Weasle King, I suppose. He'd think it funny. Maybe covering his own ass if he was the one ordering the damn things".

They walked between the stone pillars topped with winged boars, turned left down the main drag to Hogsmeade.

"I… suppose", Luna said.

She remained quiet, seemingly with that "not all there" look all the way to the outskirts of the village.

"Where are we going anyway?", Draco asked. "The Three Broomsticks?"

"No", Luna said, "I told everyone who seemed interested to meet us at the Hog's Head. Less crowded, and since the Hog's Head has a dodgy reputation, there's not much chance of stumbling across any students".

They walked down the main drag, past Zonko's Joke Shop where they were not surprised to see Fred and George, and their friend and partner in crime: Lee Jordan. Probably looking for items to create mayhem for the High Inquisitor. If they were looking into getting even for Ginny, that would be the place to do it. Farther on was the post office, from which owls flew off as others returned.

Up a side street at the end of which stood a small inn. There was a weather beaten old wooden sign swinging from a rusty bracket that had no text, just a picture of a severed, wild boar's head on a platter that was overflowing and dripping blood onto the white table cloth underneath.

The Three Broomsticks had a large open space, brightly lit from sunshine and tall windows, an atmosphere of warmth, welcome, and friendliness. Rosemerta kept the place spotless.

The Hog's Head was one small room, filthy, that smelled of something that could have been goats. The bay windows so grimy that little daylight shone through, the illumination being candles stuck onto rough hewn tables. The floor, at first looking earthy, was actually stone but covered in the filth of decades, if not centuries.

"Well, c'mon", Luna prodded.

Millicent had a look of pure disgust. It dawned on them that the appearance of the room was by design. The windows being so filthy, allowed those inside to see who was coming through the door before anyone entering could see who was inside. Indeed, it looked like keeping your face covered was part of the dress code. One man, head wrapped in bandages, was knocking back glass after glass of some fiery, smoking cocktail through a mouth opening. Two others could have been taken for dementors were they not conversing in thick Yorkshire accents.

"I don't know about this", Draco whispered. "Umbitch could be under that", he pointed out a woman wearing a black, head-to-toe veil. She was sitting beside the fireplace.

"Don't be so paranoid", Luna said, "She's a good deal taller than Umbridge. Besides, even if it is her, nothing she can do about it. I checked, and rechecked, and there are no rules about coming here, so we're not out of bounds. I made sure to ask Flitwick, and he said there was no rules against it. He did advise me to not come at all, but if I did, to make sure I brought my own glasses. I've looked into the rules about study groups, and they're definitely allowed, encouraged even, so we're not doing anything against any rules. I just think it's a good idea if we don't announce what it is we're doing".

"Not exactly a study group, is it?", Millicent said. "It's a bit more rebellious than that".

"That's why I thought it best to come here instead of the Three Broomsticks. Here, we have privacy…"

"Seriously, Luna?"

"Do any of these people look like they're attending Hogwarts? Or that they'd care about what's happening up there? Grab those tables, and I'll get us butterbeers".

The barman appeared from a back room, a grumpy old man, tall, thin, with the same long silver beard. The main difference: a straight nose: Aberforth, Albus Dumbledore's younger brother.

"What?", he grunted.

"Five butterbeers", Luna said.

He bent down to fetch the dusty bottles from underneath the bar. It was obvious he didn't serve much butterbeer.

"Ten Sickles", he said.

He deposited the money in an ancient till whose drawer opened automatically.

Draco, Luna, Millicent, Blaise, and Greg occupied a table farthest from the bar. The bandaged man rapped the bar with his knuckles and was served another smoking cocktail.

"So how many are coming?", Draco asked.

"A few others", Luna said, "they should be coming along any minute now".

"Oh, that might be them now", she said as the door opened, letting in a shaft of light that split the room in two, then was blocked out by the arriving crowd.

"A few, Luna?", Draco asked.

There was: Neville Longbottom, Dean Thomas, followed closely by Padma and Parvati Patil, Alicia Spinnet and Angelina Johnson, Cho Chang and one of her giggly girl friends, Katie Bell and Colin and Dennis Creevey, Earnie MacMillan, Justin Finch-Fletchley, Hannah Abbot and a Hufflepuff girl whose name he didn't know with a very long pony tail, three Ravenclaw boys he was pretty sure were Horace Sedgewick, Terry Boot, and Michael Corner, a tall blond boy with an upturned nose who was the new Hufflepuff Seeker: Zacharias Smith. Fred, George, and Lee Jordan and Ginny (who had to sneak out) brought up the rear.

There was a large, black dog woofing loudly just outside.

"Be off with ye", Aberforth said as he took a kick at the dog, who ducked and ran. "Ye mangy mutt".

He returned to the bar after closing the door. He didn't look too pleased, though he should have, as it was probably a good long while since the bar had been so busy.

"A few, Luna, a _few_?", Draco asked.

"Once I mentioned it, the idea seemed to catch on".

"I'll get us some drinks", Fred volunteered. He quickly counted how many at the bar. "Thirty butterbeers, please".

The barman ceased wiping down a glass with a battleship gray rag. He brought up as many bottles as he had below the counter, and that meant another trip to the backroom.

"C'mon, cough up", Fred called out. "I'm not carrying that much gold", he said while Aberforth was in the back room.

Everyone knew why: the large sack of items from Zonko's they brought with them. He collected the gold before Aberforth returned with another case of butterbeer. Fred, George, Lee, and Earnie took the bottles back to their tables.

"Taking a chance, Ginny?", Draco asked. "I thought Lupin was teaching you?"

"He gave me a few pointers after Wormtail nearly broke my neck. Mother wasn't too pleased with Mr. Lupin, but allowed a few lessons. I don't see how I can get any farther on Umbrdige's bad side, so what difference does it make?"

"We all know why we're here", Luna began, "we aren't getting proper instruction in defense all because Fudge doesn't want to admit Whatshisname is back…"

"I don't know about that", Zacharias objected.

"You heard what the Headmaster said at the close last year? How Hewhomustnotbenamed murdered Cedric?", Earnie MacMillan said.

Cho couldn't help a gasp at hearing that, as she was Cedric's girlfriend.

"And that's _all_ we have to go on: Dumbledore's say-so, and he got it from a vision Potter had. I'd _hardly_ call that conclusive", Zacharias explained his position.

"If you don't believe…"

"It doesn't matter, Luna, I still need to pass my OWL in defense, and I'm not gonna do that sitting on my ass in Umbridge's class reading that book! There are better texts, and if reading is all we do, we could do that anywhere, any time. We don't need to be sitting in a classroom for that".

"Doesn't matter", Draco said, "so long as you want to learn".

"And just what makes you think we can learn defense on our own, Looney?", Smith objected

"We have a special tutor lined up", she explained, "an x-auror… and I really don't like that nick".

"Who? Not Mad Eye again?", Dean asked. "I mean, he was half-nuts last year".

"No, not him: Amelia Bones".

"I thought she disappeared? Assassinated by someone looking for revenge?", Dean asked.

"She's quite all right", Draco said. Amelia and Susan – both alive, well, and willing to teach us proper defense. What Umbitch is doing isn't Defense Against the Dark Arts. Book learning isn't the same, even if it were a decent text, which it isn't".

"How often do we meet?"

"At least once a week, otherwise, why bother".

"We have Quiddich practice", Katie Bell, a Gryffindor Chaser, said.

"That's right", Cho, Team Ravenclaw Seeker agreed.

"I'm sure we can find a time that'll suit most of us, most of the time", Luna said. "Even if you're here just for your OWLs, defense is more important than Quiddich".

This was sacrilege for Fred and George: Gryffindor Beaters.

"Hear! Hear!", Earnie MacMillan called out. "Personally, I think this is more important than anything else we'll do this year, and that _includes_ OWLs…"

He waited for the objections that didn't come.

"I have no idea what the Ministry could be thinking, foisting off on us a worthless class and call it 'Defense' taught by an even worse teacher. Obviously they're in denial that Youknowwho has returned, but why they would want to prevent us from learning defensive spells…"

"We have good reason to believe that Fudge doesn't want us learning defense, or any other spells that could be considered combat spells, because he has this crazy idea that Dumbledore is using DADA to raise a student army to overthrow him…", Draco announced.

This news left everyone but Luna stunned with surprise.

"Well, that does make sense", Luna said. "After all, Cornelius Fudge has his own private army".

"What're you talking about?", Draco asked. It was the first he, or anyone else at the table, heard about this.

"He has an army of meramon", Luna said.

"No, he doesn't", Ginny replied firmly.

"What are meramon?", Neville asked.

"Fire spirits, tall, flaming men with large blue eyes who burn everything in their way. They shoot Magma Bombs at their enemies…"

"They don't exist, Neville", Ginny insisted.

"Yes, they do!"

"Then where's the proof?"

"Proving is what you do in maths", Luna said, "this is about science: observation. They've been seen by lots of eye-witnesses. I can't help it if you're so closed-minded you have to have everything shoved right under your nose before you'll accept it".

"Now you sound like Trelawney", Ginny said. "She's always dodging when it's time to put up or shut up".

"I thought we were discussing when we'd meet", Goyle said to get the discussion back on track.

"Right, then, once a week", Millicent said.

"Quiddich…"

"I'm sure we can find a time so's you won't miss your precious Quiddich practices. Once a week, then? Although I'd be happier if we could do it twice a week".

"Then where?", someone called out.

"The library? Empty classrooms?", another speculated.

"Yeah, Miss Pince should be OK with us flinging spells and curses around her library", Fred said.

"We have that covered", Draco said. "We can't tell you more until our first lesson, then you'll see what arrangements we've made".

Luna pulled a quill and parchment from her hand bag: "I… I think everyone should write down their names so we know who's signing on".

Fred and George happily wrote their names at the top of the list.

"Everyone who signs agrees to not tell Umbridge or anyone else what we're doing", she explained.

"I… don't know about that", Earnie and Zacharias objected. "What if Umbridge gets her hands on that list?"

"I thought you were the one who just said this was more important than OWLs, Quiddich even? You think I'd just leave it lying around where she could see it?", Luna objected.

"I'd expect Hermione to be that officious", Alicia said.

"If it'll make you happy…", Earnie conceded, "I still don't get the point, we know who we all are".

They thought this was Luna's being looney again. She returned the roster to her handbag. They finished off their butterbeer, and left the Hog's Head by ones, twos, or threes. They couldn't help but feel as though they'd signed a contract.

"We have more shopping to do", Fred and George said, "items of a – sensitive nature – let's say".

Cho wanted to stick around, but her companion dragged her out of the Hog's Head as soon as possible.

"That Zacharias bloke is a wart", Greg Goyle said as he looked up the street to where Zacharias was well ahead.

"I don't much like him either", Luna confessed, "but he overheard when I was telling Hannah and Earnie all about it at the Hufflepuff table. He seemed interested, so what could I say? I mean, the more we have, the better".

"I hope you're right and that he doesn't turn out to be an asshole", Draco said. "Only takes one to ruin everything for everyone else".

"You heard what he said? Once we're into it, he won't. He still wants this for his OWL in defense, even if he doesn't believe".

"I suppose…"

"I have to stop in here", Luna said as they were passing Shrivenshaft's Quill Emporium. "Mine are wearing out".

There was a display of some very nice pheasant feather quills in the window.

"Normie pens are a lot better", Draco said, "Hogwarts could learn a thing or two from Beaux Batons".

"Oh well", Luna said, "SUX to be us".

They spent the rest of the day hitting the usual sites: Honeyduke's and the Three Broomsticks. Draco and Ginny headed for Madam Puddifoot's Tea Room.

The next day, the weather held, so nearly everyone headed for the lake to do their studying and homework to take advantage of what was one of the last days of good weather.

Monday morning, everyone awoke to a new notice tacked up on the message board that covered everything: advertisements for the sale of used text books, the Quiddich schedule, the dates of Hogsmeade weekends, lost and found notices, offers to trade Chocolate Frog cards, this week's password into the Common Room.

 **By Order of**

 **The Office of High Inquisitor**

 **All student organizations, clubs, groups, societies, and teams**

 **are henceforth banned.**

 **An organization, club, group, society or team is defined to**

 **be any regular meeting of three or more students.**

 **Permission to re-form organizations may be**

 **sought by application to the High Inquisitor.**

 **Any student found to have organized, or joined, an**

 **unauthorized organization will be summarily expelled.**

 **This is in accordance with Educational Decree Twenty Five.**

 **Signed:**

 **Dolores Jane Umbridge, High Inquisitor**

"This mean the Gobstones Club?", one second year student crowded in front of the notice asked.

"She'll probably be OK with Gobstones", said another.

"She knows", Draco said, "Umbitch knows"

"Couldn't", said Luna.

"This _can't_ be a coincidence", Draco objected. "The timing's _way_ too convenient. That pub wasn't as private as you thought".

"What do Gobstones Clubs, or Quiddich teams, have to do with educational reforms?", Greg asked.

"Wait till Father hears about this!", Draco complained.

"I bet it was that Zacharias Smith asshole", Millicent said. "I never liked him".

"Or that Michael Corner, or that friend of Cho's: both looked pretty fishy", Blaise said.

"It wasn't any of them", Luna said.

"Just because you're so naive and trusting doesn't mean everyone else is".

"Couldn't have been. You see, there was a jinx on that paper everyone signed. If anyone ratted us out, believe me, we'd know, and they would regret it".

"What would happen?"

"You know Eloise Midgen?"

"Yeah… so…"

"Her zits would look like freckles in comparison", Luna explained.

"Who jinxed the paper? You?"

"It was Hermione: she sent it from Beaux Batons".

"I'm going to see Dumbledumbass about this", Draco said. "There is _no_ excuse for this".

"So what do we do now?", Millicent asked.

"We make like we didn't see that", Luna said as she pointed to the sign, "and carry on like we planned. If anyone wants to drop, now's the time".

"I'm still in", Greg reassured. "What's the worse that can happen? We get caught and expelled. Better to be taking OWLs at Harebell's and know how to defend ourselves than be sitting ducks here at Hogwarts. We're not gonna be here forever".

In the Great Hall, the conspirators against Umbridge looked all around. They didn't see anyone who looked to be breaking out with a sudden case of acne, so they hadn't been betrayed by anyone who came to the Hog's Head.

Luna motioned and silently mouthed the words: "Later… We'll… See… You… Later" at the Hufflepuff table as she saw Zacharias Smith, Earnie MacMillan, and Hannah Abbot looking to stand and visit the Slytherins' table. She glanced sideways at the staff table, hoping no one up there noticed. It didn't look like they did. After all, the usual buzz around the hall was more intense, and students were running back and forth between the tables, seeking to know if the new decree had appeared in all the common rooms. Of course, it had.

Once the serving was over, Draco asked for a permission slip to see the Headmaster.

"I already know why you want to see the Headmaster, as you aren't the only one requesting to see him, and the answer's 'No'", said McGonagall.

"What do school clubs and extracurricular activities have to do with any sort of educational standards?", he asked. "Looks to me like the High Inquisitor is stepping out of bounds".

"Not if you consider, Mr. Malfoy, the distractions from study such activities entail. That's the reason for the decree".

That was a plausible excuse, and skated the thin edge of overstepping her bounds of authority. If that were the case, it would make more sense to ban anyone who didn't maintain an average of at least an 'A' from participating.

The Quiddich captains also gathered after serving.

"No big deal, we ask to reform the teams. Just a technicality", Angelina explained.

"So what do we do?", Luna asked while on their way to Magical History. "Tell… them?"

"I suppose", Draco replied.

"What if she chickens out?"

"They're gonna know soon enough, best to let them know in advance. If it happens, then it happens, then we worry about it. I sent the last one, your turn".

 _Owlery Holt_

"The latest from Hogwarts", Lucius announced, "it would seem that Umbridge is onto our friends. There's been another decree: no clubs or other organizations that aren't Umbridge-approved. Luna and the others she brought in to the defense study group are willing to continue meeting".

"Doesn't surprise me", Sirius agreed. "Meeting in the Hog's Head wasn't such a good idea. Albus also knows all about it. I'm pretty sure he had Mundungus tailing them".

"Do you think he told?"

"I don't see how, unless he owled her. I believe he would report the meeting and what he heard to the Order of the Phoenix".

"Could Dumbledore have told her?", Harry asked.

"I don't know, but I'd highly doubt that. He'd gladly look the other way".

"Unless he thought it might help ingratiate himself to Umbridge, or even the Ministry?"

"Anything's possible, but that's improbable. Things have gone too far between Fudge and Dumbledore to patch up those differences. You can be sure he also resents that Fudge would send her to keep an eye on him".

"The next question: is the defense group still a 'Go'?", Harry asked.

"I'm willing", Amelia said, "if this Room of Requirement is really as secure, and if Harry is willing. I could do it alone, if he isn't, or if there's too great of a risk in going behind the Ministry's back".

"From everything I learned from the house elves, I would say it isn't free of all risk, but there's a very good chance that Umbridge doesn't know about it, and that there's little possibility of her finding out. If you ask the Room to exclude her and Filch, they will be excluded. Of course, better that they never learn of it in the first place. We've already seen how unhinged she really is.

"I will be speaking with Arthur, pretty soon, I imagine – as soon as he can get to Ottery St Catchpole, get a connection.

"Sirius, you never did say how it went in Hogsmeade?"

"Went just fine, except when Aberforth tried kicking me. For an old guy, he moves pretty quick. I tried barking at the kids, you know, warn them that Fletcher was probably in there, but how would they know? Just another woofing stray begging treats".

"No one suspected?"

"No, but why would they? Hard enough to detect an animagus even if you suspect one's around, and other than the folks here, no one knows I'm an amimagus, Moonie excepted, of course".

 _12 Grimmauld Pl_

The Order of the Phoenix was having a regular meeting.

"We've heard Mundungus' report about the Hogsmeade weekend, and the plans of the kids to start their own defense study group. However, they aren't the only ones who noticed. The High Inquisitor has banned all student groups and even the Quiddich teams. She will consider allowing the reformation of the existing clubs, teams, and study groups, but I doubt a defense group will receive approval, not that they will seek it".

"I may have an answer", Arthur announced. "My department solved the mystery of who was behind pranking the toilets in muggle rest rooms. It Was Willie Widdershins. We recommended him for prosecution, but word around the Ministry is he cut some sort of a deal. Traded something he knew about Hogwarts for a fine and probation".

"So what are their intentions?", Molly asked.

"They'll go through with it, I'm sure", Dumbledore replied.

"And if they get caught?", she asked.

"There will be trouble, I have no doubt, but that won't stop them. I suspect they're having lots of help from the Order of the Otter… Speaking of that, any progress, Arthur?"

"None: I haven't heard a word so far", he replied.

"Can you do anything, Albus?"

"Oh yes: I plan to let them go ahead with their lessons. I hope they won't need it, but it is highly irresponsible to be denying them defense training, especially in these times".

 _Hogwarts: Room of Requirement_

Draco had the Marauders Map to make certain that neither Filch nor Umbridge were in the area. So far, so good: Umbridge was in her office, Filch was on the second floor, and Peeves in the Astronomy Tower.

"So what do we do?", Millicent asked.

Draco walked back and forth before the wall opposite the tapestry of Barnabas the Balmy.

"We need a place to practice defensive spells unnoticed. Don't let in Umbridge or Filch".

After the third incantation, the oak doors appeared. Inside, Harry and Amelia were waiting. By ones and twos, the rest of the defense study group arrived. Once everyone was there, Draco locked the door from the inside.

"Harry!", Fred and George greeted, "long time; no see!"

"Yeah", Neville agreed. "Didn't expect we'd be seeing you again".

"You didn't go back to Beaux Batons?", George asked.

"I've been put out of circulation for awhile. Fudge…"

"We heard all about it", Neville said. He didn't need to explain as it was known his grandmother was with the Ministry.

The Room had bookshelves with volumes on defense: _The Dark Arts Outsmarted, Self Defense Spellwork, A Compendium of Common Curses and their Counter Actions, Jinxes for the Jinxed._ The collection being filled with texts a lot more useful than Slinkhard's boring tome. The floor covered with soft cushions.

"May I have your attention, now that we're all here", Amelia Bones called out.

"If I may", Luna spoke up, "I think we need a name for ourselves", she explained. "You know, to give us an identity we can call our own, to cement our camaraderie".

"I know!", George called out, 'The Anti-Umbridge League'".

"How about 'The Ministry SUX Club'", Fred suggested.

"Nothing like that", Luna objected. "It should be something we can use in public, but not give away what we're doing. How about the Defense Alliance? We could use the initials only, the DA, when others can overhear".

"'DA' sounds good", Ginny agreed, "but let's make it stand for 'Dumbledore's Army'. If we get caught, that's what they'll think anyway".

There were no objections, so Luna wrote 'Dumbledore's Army at the head of the group's membership roster.

"Now that that's settled", Amelia proceeded, "I want to start with the disarming charm, the Expelliarmus. How many of you have seen it?"

Everyone raised their hands: "We saw it when Lockhart was here", Earnie explained.

Everyone remembered Lockhart's ill-fated Dueling Club and its first and last meet. Snape nearly knocked Lockhart unconscious with an Expelliarmus.

"Then you know how it works", Amelia continued explaining, "if done right, it will remove from any attacker their wands or other weapons they might think of using. This is one of the charms that will be included with the practical demonstration part of your Defense OWL.

"If you all would pair up", Amelia said.

Calls of "Expelliarmus!", filled the room as wands went flying. Being beginners, there was also lots of poorly aimed spells that missed their marks, sending books flying to the floor. Harry sent Neville's wand flying to the ceiling where it hit with a shower of sparks and landed on top of a book case. He used the Summoning Charm to retrieve it for him.

Others weren't having much luck, their partners simply pushed back a step or two at the feeble spell.

"Expelliarmus!", Neville called out and Harry felt his wand leave his hand.

"I DID IT! I FINALLY DID IT!", he crowed. "I never did it before".

"That was very good", Harry lied. He didn't explain that, in a real duel, the opponent would never have his back turned, wand at his side. Still, Neville's wand work left a lot to be desired, so he thought it best not to deflate his confidence. In the middle of the room, he noticed something strange: Zacharias Smith and Merissa Goldstein were partnered, but every time Zacharias lifted his wand to disarm Merissa, his wand would go flying. Was she casting silently? He soon figured it out as Fred and George were firing at Zacharias instead of each other.

"Would you two quit horsing around?", he reprimanded.

"Sorry, we couldn't help it", the Twins said.

"Problem?", he asked of Cho.

"I insisted Marietta come", she explained, "she didn't really want to, seeing how her parents told her to not do anything to upset Umbridge as her folks work for the Ministry. So did mine, telling me not to get on Umbridge's bad side, but if they think I won't fight after what he did to Cedric, they have another thing coming!"

"Father wouldn't mind", Luna was joining them, "he's always been very anti-Fudge. After all the goblins he's had assassinated, and how he's using the Department of Mysteries to develop new, untraceable poisons he slips to anyone who disagrees with him, not to mention his Umgubular Slashkilter…"

"Don't ask", Harry told Cho.

"You need to make up your own mind", he told Marietta, "do you want to do this or not? If you're really that uncomfortable, we'll understand, and you're always free to leave the group with no one's here thinking any the less of you for it".

"Thanks… I really should go", she turned to leave.

"Why, Harry…"

"Look, Cho, we don't need anyone whose heart really isn't into it. It's not fair to her and it's not fair to the rest of us. We all know Marietta follows you around like a faithful puppy, but you really need to let her go to make up her own mind".

Amelia blew a whistle to call everyone's attention for an announcement.

"So far, that wasn't half bad, better than I expected from first timers. There is still some spotty wand work. You there…"

"Earnie MacMillen, Ma'am".

"You're spending too much time flourishing your wand, giving your opponent too much time to slip his charm in before you can react. It may make for a good show, but that's not how it is in a real duel. Keep it short and sweet, and get the drop on him before he can get the drop on you".

"Yes, Ma'am".

"You two…"

"Colin Creevey"

"Denis Creevey"

"You have the opposite problem. You're rushing your casting, throwing off your aim".

This was true as the Creevey brothers were the ones mainly responsible for all the books scattered on the floor around the bookcases.

"You need to keep it fast and smooth. You can't disarm your opponent if you aren't aiming at your opponent. Slow it down a notch, and try to hit your target. Learn to aim first, then pick up the speed".

"Since we're coming up on curfew, let's call it a night", Amelia announced. "You've done fairly good for a first effort, so you can be proud of that. There's still more work to be done, and remember, accuracy first, and let speed come naturally. That's what I'd like for you to think about. So next week, same time?"

"We still need time for Quiddich", Cho reminded.

"Weekly lessons, or you might as well not bother. You'll need to get your priorities straight: Defense or Quiddich…"

"I don't think that's a good idea", Harry interrupted, "if there's sudden vacancies on the Quiddich teams, someone's going to notice".

"Good point. Decide on when's the best time for you within the next seven days. Luna or Draco will let me know when you can meet".

Draco saw to it that everyone's way was clear with the Map.

"There is one problem", Draco explained. "We need some way, some means of communicating, so all of us aren't going to other house tables, or being seen with a whole bunch of folks from different Houses".

"We'll work something out", Harry promised.


	41. Snake Eyes

**Snake Eyes**

 _Owlery Holt_

"We do have a bit of a problem", Amelia was explaining, "it's the irregularity of these meetings, and that all these kids are having to pass the word. There's the very real possibility that they could be discovered when they're always dropping by the tables".

"I'll see what I can do", Harry offered.

"How?", she asked.

"Send another owl to Beaux Batons, see what Hermione can come up with. She seldom disappoints".

 _Hogwarts_

 _Dear Father:_

 _The renewed Quiddich season is off to a positively wonderful start, after last year's hiatus. Luna came up with this idea for a hat, a coiled serpent that would hiss loudly and wave its forked tongue whenever she pulled on the side pom-poms. Corny, but cute and harmless._

 _Not so some of our team mates. One composed this ditty, Weasley is our King. I don't have any reason to like Ronald Weasley, and a whole lot of reasons not to. But did he deserve this, considering he's the new guy this year?_

 _Weasley is our king  
_ _He can not block a single ring  
_ _That's why Slytherins all sing  
_ _Weasley is our king  
_ _Weasley was born in a bin  
_ _He always lets the Quaffle in  
_ _Weasley will make sure we win  
_ _Weasley is our king_

 _Yes, razzing your opponents is a long Quiddich tradition, and, believe me, I've had enough of it myself; I've done it enough myself. But this, almost enough to make me feel for the guy. This went on and on, during the match. It was a hard fought match, as it always is when it's against the Gryffindor's. Even the faculty was involved. McGonagall excused all the Gryffindor players from homework so they'd have more time to practice. Then someone from our side (wink, wink) cast a jinx at the Gryffindor Seeker that made her eyebrows grow so long that they covered her eyes. Professor Snape said it was an unfortunate accident with a Hair Thickening Charm even though more than a dozen witnesses said it was someone from Slytherin who did it._

 _To make a long story short, the new Gryffindor Seeker, Alice… Something… caught the Snitch to save the game, and her team mate from embarrassment. (Sorry, Dad – I'll do better next time) That's when that damn fool Crabbe deliberately hit a Bludger at Alice, knocking her off her broom. Thankfully, it wasn't too far to the ground, but shook her up. Then that Bole said something that set off a brawl between Alice, Fred, and George and Bole and Montague. McGonagall was livid, and Umbridge banned them from playing. McGonagall was going for a week's detention, but that wasn't good enough for our High Inquisitor. She talked Fudge into yet another Educational Decree that gives her the power to over rule the Professors when it comes to handing out punishments. I suppose Umbridge did this to spite McGonagall. It turns out that she didn't want to allow Team Ravenclaw to reform, and McGonagall and Flitwick took the matter to the Headmaster. You remember Ginny? She's Ravenclaw's Seeker this year, and you know how the High Inquisitor feels about Ginny. Well, anyway, Team Gryffindor is crippled, and will likely lose the Quiddich Cup._

 _Love,_

 _Draco_

He went up to the owlery to send that off to Malfoy Manor. Let the High Inquisitor see he was sending normal mail, just in case she and/or Filch were watching.

Now that the opening match of the Quiddich season was behind them, the meetings of Dumbledore's Army could go ahead. The second meet went better than the first, as everyone was toning their enthusiasm down a notch or two. The Creevey brothers weren't slinging the Expelliarmus wildly; Fred and George curbed their usual urge to prank the other members. There was a more serious atmosphere this time. Neville, however, was still having problems. Amelia took him aside.

"Where did you get this wand?", she asked.

"It belonged to my father", he said. "Gran insisted I take it when I started Hogwarts".

"It's no wonder why you're having such trouble. You know that a wand isn't just some stick you wave around? They're almost alive, and you need a wand that can work with you. I know there's that sentimental attachment, but that's not how it works…"

"It was Gran: she insisted".

"You need a wand you can call your own. We need to get you to Ollivander's for that wand that wants to work with you, and you alone. Then, I imagine we'll see a lot of improvement on your part".

"You think so?"

"Yes, Neville, I do".

"It's just that everyone thought I was nearly a squib".

"You try, and that's the main thing. And a wand of your own will help immensly".

After the lesson: "I'll be joining you later", Harry explained, "Hagrid's back".

"I don't like it", Amelia said, "I don't suppose I can talk you out of it, can I?"

"No, Madam Bones, you can't".

"I thought as much, you and Sirius".

"You say that like it's a bad thing".

Harry was pleased to see that the gamekeeper's cabin was aglow. He, Ginny, Fred, and George made their way through the fresh snowfall. Harry under his invisibility cloak.

Fred knocked with the doorknocker three times. They heard woofing inside.

"Oudda thuh way, Fang", came a gruff voice from within. "Oudda thuh way ye dozy dog!"

Hagrid opened the door.

"Ye kids shouldna come, thuh curfew…"

"Just for a few?"

"Awlrye"

Harry slipped off the cloak.

"Harry! Ye come back? I thaw ye were goin ter dat French school?"

"It's a long story, a lot's been happening since you left. You were missed, I can tell you".

"Yeah", Fred and George agreed, "everyone missed you. Care hasn't been the same without you".

"You just have to tell us!", Ginny insisted.

"Akshully, I doan hafta say nuttin", Hagrid explained.

"Did it have something to do with the giants?", Ginny asked.

"That's what I figured too", Harry agreed.

"Who done tole ye thah? Who ye bin talkin' ter?". He went to put on the pot.

"We sort of guessed", Ginny said.

"Ye kids… never known kids like yez, allays knowin' more'n yez supposeter, an' I ain complementin' yez, no Suh, nosy some be callin' it".

He put on a pot to serve herbal tea while deciding whether to tell them or insist they stay out of it.

"So you've been looking for giants?", Harry more said than asked.

"Dey ain dat hard ter fine, ter be honess", he said, "kind'a big, an' dey tend ter stan' out".

"So where do you find them?", Ginny asked.

"Mountains", he said

"Then why don't the muggles…", Fred began.

"Akshully, dey do, though very few ever lives ter tell uvit. Dare deffs are chalked up ter mountaineerin' accidents, dang'rous sport, thah. An' thuh ones what do survive, well, everbody t'inks dey went koo-koo", he said as he twirled a finger beside his head.

It didn't seem like he was going to say any more, to their disappointment.

"C'mon, tell us about the giants and Harry'll tell you about how he fought off the dementors", George prompted.

Hagrid choked, sputtered, and sprayed a considerable volume of herbal tea all over the table top and beyond.

"Dementors? Ye was attacked by dementors?! Ain never heared of suchating!"

"There's been a whole lot going on since you left", Harry explained. "And it's true, we – I mean my cousin and I – we were attacked right there in Little Whinging. There were two of them, and one nearly gave Dudley the Kiss. Would have too, but forch, Remus taught me the Patronus Charm. Otherwise, they would have gotten the both of us. The Ministry wanted to take my wand…"

"Dey wanted ter take yer wan'?, he asked.

"Oh yes", Harry continued, "first, there was the owl from Mafalda Hopkirk saying Ministry officials were coming to confiscate my wand. Then another from Arthur Weasley telling me not to co-operate, and that Dumbledore was working on it. Then another post from Hopkirk telling me I could keep my wand, but that there was going to be a hearing later that month. That was for underage sorcery in a muggle area, and in front of a muggle".

"So how'd it go?", Hagrid asked, remembering how badly his meeting went when he was pleading Buckbeak's case.

"Wouldn't know", Harry explained, "didn't go".

"Ye dint go?! Harry!"

"It wouldn't've done any good. It was a set-up, and I never would have stood a chance. You were there at the end of last year? You know what Fudge's position on Whatshisname is. He wanted me silenced, and sending me to Azkaban would certainly do that. I'm doing better on the lamm anyway with Sirius. OK, your turn".

"Oh awlrye", he conceded. "Me an' Olympe went lookin' fer giants. It was juss thuh pair of us. Olympe bein' a fine, well dressed woman, well I figgered she would'n be up ter roughin' it, clamberin' over boulders, sleepin' in caves, but she never complained. Not once did she".

"So you knew where you were going?", Ginny asked.

"Dumblederr, he knew, an' he tole us. We was bein' watched, we was…"

"What do you mean?", Fred asked.

"Ye needs ter consider: the Min'stry's been follerin' Dumblederr an' innyone who may be in league with him. So what we done is dis: when we got ter France, we made like we was on holiday, goin' ter Paris like lotsa folk does. Dat's where we gave the berk dat was follerin' us thuh slip".

"How'd you manage that?"

"Wasn hard, not at awl. We figgered dey'd try sumpin like thah. So we took an Air France flight from Charles De Gaulle airport direkly ter Minsk…"

"You went normie air?", Ginny asked.

"Dunnit beferr…"

"No shit?", George asked.

"A coupla years ago err so Ah'se know my way roun' an airport. Olympe, she knows awl boud muggle ways. Our Mins'try tail, he doan know nuttin' boud dat, so's he's still prolly wanderin' bout Charles De Gaulle, lessin sumone come an' got him.

"Inniways, it was juss a question of findin' 'em. After leavin' Minsk, it couldn't'a gone smoother. Trekkin' up thuh mountains lookin' fer signs uvvum. We hadda lay off thuh magic once we was near 'em. Partly cuzz dey doan truss wizards, and partly cuzz Dumblederr warned us thuh Death Eaters might be dere too. It was odds on Youknowwho already sent a delegation ter parley with 'em fer dere favour".

Hagrid paused to take a long draw at his oversized cup.

"Go on!", Harry prompted.

"Innyways, we found'em. Came up over a ridge one nigh' an' dere dey was. In a gully by a small lake. Fires burnin awl roun, castin' shadows. It was like watchin' parts of thuh mountain movin'".

"How big were they?", Ginny asked.

"Oh, I guess twenny feet, the biggest ones, prolly twenny-five or more".

"How many were there?"

"I guess seventy… eighty. Dere used ter be a lot more. Maybe a hunnerd tribes from all over, but dey been dyin' out fer quite a long time now. Wizards kilt a few, dat's true, but mainly dey dunnit ter demseffs. Dere not made ter live like thah, awl bunched together. Dey been dyin' out faster than dey kin replace demseffs. Dumblederr say it's our fault, wizards chasin' 'em away, makin' 'em live far from us. Dey hadda stick together fer dere own protekshun. Still goes against thuh grain".

"You saw them", Harry said, "then what?"

"We waited till mornin'. Dint want ter go down dere at nigh', sneakin' up on 'em is a very dang'rous t'ing ter be doin'. So we waited.

"Once it was light, an' dey was up an' about, we went ter seeum".

"You walked into a giants' camp? Just like that?", Ginny asked.

"Well, no, not exakly. Dumblederr explained what ter do. Ye hafta offer thuh Gurg giffs an show some respeck".

"The… 'Gurg'?", Harry asked.

"He's the chieftain o' thuh tribe".

"How did you know?", Fred asked.

"Dat was easy: thuh Gurg was thuh biggest, ugliest, and thuh laziest. He sat aroun', doin' nuttin' while the ress brung him food – dead goats 'n' such. Name of Karkus. Make him boud twenny-two… twenny-three… must'a weighed as much as two bull elephants… hide like a rhino.

"Innyways, we went inter thuh camp. Dumblederr esplained dat ye needs ter keep yer eyes on ter Gurg an' doan mine thuh ress. Act like ye knows yer bidness, show no sign of uncertainty, so dat's what we done: held our giff up high, kept eye contak wiff Karkus, an ignore ter ress".

"They were OK with that?", Fred asked. "They didn't want to kill the both of you?"

"Some uvum definitely had dat in mine, but dey went real quiet-like, juss in case Karkus wanted ter duit hisseff.

'A giff from Albus Dumblederr fer thuh Gurg o' the Giants in respekful greetin's', we says as we laid it at his feet".

"What did you give him?", Harry asked. "Food?"

"Naw, Karkus kin get all thuh food he wants. We gave him magic. Giants like magic, it's wizards what dey hate, 'specially when we use it agin 'em. Innyway, dat furss day we gave him a branch o' Gubraithian Fire…"

"What's that?", Fred and George asked.

"Honestly", Ginny said, "don't you two _ever_ pay attention? It's everlasting fire; Flitwick's mentioned it on several occasions during Charms".

"Well, I placed dis burnin' branch dat Dumblederr'd bewitched to burn evermore rye at his feet. Not inny wizard could'a dunnit, an' Karkus knowed dat".

"So what did he say?"

"Nuttin, doan speak English, so he called fer sumone who understood our lingo who could interpret fer us".

"So they had someone who could speak English? All that way…"

"Giants get a rye education, an' English bein' an important language of commerce an' everything, of curss dey'd know it. Giants maybe a lotta t'ings, but stupid dey ain't".

"And did he like it?"

"Went down a storm once dey knew what it was. Dat's when we says: 'Albus Dumblederr asks the Gurg to speak wiff his representatives when dey return tomorrow wiff anudder giff'. An' dats where we leff it".

"You didn't do anything?", Ginny asked.

"Yer see, dats how yez do bidness wiff giants. If'n yer try ter force it, it doan go down so swell. Let 'em see yer giff, let 'em see if'n it's valuable. Show 'em yer word's good when ye return as promised. Dat's thuh thing boud giants: ye doan wanna overload 'em wiff information. Dey'd kill yez juss ter simplify things. So we bowed out an' foun' a nice cave where we could stay the night. Thuh necks mornin', we went back, and Karkus was sittin' up, waitin' ter see what we brung him. So we greeted him and laid before him a battle helmet. Goblin made an' nearly indestructible.

"Den we talked, an' Karkus did most of thuh liss'nen. We took dat as a good sign. He knew about Dumblederr, knew he'd argued agin thuh killin' o' the lass o' thuh British giants. Some of the others, thuh ones what had some English listened in. Innyways, dey seemed int'rested in hearin' more. Dint get no agreements one way or thuh odder, but dey dint say 'No'. We promised ter come back the necks day wiff anudder giff.

"Dats when everything wen' awl wrong. Dat nigh' a fight broke out, Ah guess betwixt dem's what agreed wiff Karkus an' dem dat dint. Went on mos' of thuh night, lotsa screamin', yellin', an by thuh necks mornin', the snow was awl stained scarlet from awl thuh blood spilt durin' thuh nigh', an' his head was lyin' at the bottom o' thuh lake…"

"Whose head?", Ginny gasped.

"Karkus', dere were a new Gurg, name of Golgamath: one of the biggest dere, black hair an' teeth ter match, wearin' a necklace of bones, some lookin' awl too human. He was wearin' Karkus' new helmet. So we went awn down dere wiff thuh giff we intended fer Karkus".

"You went down there, even though this Golgamath just ripped off the head on another giant?", Ginny asked.

"'Course we did! We dint come awl dat way ter juss give up. We still needed dere hepp, or at the very leas', a promise of neutrality. Innyways, we made our way inter thuh camp, ter present our necks giff. Ah knowed rye off it weren't good, thuh way Golgamath be leerin' at us. Innyway, we rolled out dis sheet o' dragon skin, sain it was a giff fer thuh Gurg o' the Giants.

"Before I knew it, Ah was upside down by thuh ankles, two of 'em got me. Dat's when Olympe hit them giants wiff the Conjunctivitis Curse. Never seen wand-work so fast. Ruddy marvelous. Good t'ing too, odderwise, we wouldn'a be here.

"Dey dint like thah, bein' we used magick agin 'em – dats what dey hate mos' boud wizards – so we hadda leg it".

"Then you came back?", Harry asked.

"Aw hell no! We stuck aroun' feelin' out thuh sit'iation. Dumblederr gave us a job, an' we wasn' juss gonna quit after three days. We sure dint like what we seen…"

"Did Golgamath rip off more heads?", Fred and George asked.

"Nuttin' like thah, but I wish he hadda".

"How do you mean?"

"It weren't wizards he object ter, juss us. It was as Dumblederr feared: thuh Death Eaters got dere firss, and Golgamath be parlayin' with 'em. Coup'la ovem comin' every day, bringin' giffs fer thuh new Gurg, an' dey wasn' hangin' upside down. So dat's what thuh fight be awl 'boud: dem's what sided wiff thuh Death Eaters, an' thuh ones what sympathized wiff Dumblederr".

"So the Death Eaters persuaded the giants to side with Youknowwho?", Ginny asked.

"Hol' yer hippogryphs, I dint say thah. Me an' Olympe discussed it an' we agreed: juss because Karkus were gone dint mean he dint still have supporters who never wanted Golgamath as Gurg".

"How could you tell?", Harry asked.

"Dat were no problem, the ones what was awl beat ter a pulp were thuh ones we needed ter see. So we'd go out at nigh' searchin' thuh caves, lookin' fer the giants layin' low an' stayin' outta Golgamath's way…"

"You went through caves at night? Looking for giants?", Fred and George said.

"We wasn' ter onny ones; we figgured Golgamath tole thuh Death Eaters we was out dere. Olympe, she wanted ter go an' get 'em, but Dumblederr say ter avoid inny Death Eaters, to not tangle withum, if'n we could hepps it. Ah wuz hard put ter stop 'er. Firey. Ah speck it's thuh French in her, yannow…"

Hagrid paused to stare into the fire, reminiscing. They waited a minute or so.

"So what happened then?", Harry prompted.

"You find the giants?", Fred asked.

"We was nosin' 'round thuh caves, an' boud thuh sixth one, we found three uvum, huddled in this small cave…"

"Must've been pretty crowded?", George asked.

"Not innuff room to swing a kneazle", Hagrid explained.

"They didn't attack?"

"Prolly would'a if'n dey was in inny condition. Golgamath's bunch beat them nearly ter death, an' dey crawled inter the nearest shelter. Innyway, one uvum had a bit o' English so's he could interpret. Dey lissened, an' seemed agreeable, which was more'n we got from Golgamath. We had maybe six or seven convinced at one point…"

"What do you mean, 'at one point'?", Ginny asked.

"Golgamath's bunch caught wind of what we was up ter, an' he sent his gang o' supporters ter attacks thuh ones been meetin' with us. Thuh survivors decided dey dint wan' nuttin more ter do wiff us".

"So there won't be any giants coming?", Fred asked, disappointed.

"Nope, 'fraid not. However, we dun what Dumblederr sent us fer: we delivered his message. Dere's allays thuh chance dat thuh ones what doan wanter foller Golgamath'll remember, realize thah Dumblederr's frien'ly, an' mibbe they'll leave thuh mountains. If'n dey do, den mibbe dey come. I speck dat's thuh bes' we kin ask fer".

"So why so long to come back?"

"It's like dis: we separated ter throw the Death Eaters doggin' our trails off. Recall: Dumblederr dint want no fights, ye see. Bess if'n we keep Youknowwho inter thuh dark concernin' our activities. Led 'em on a rye goose chase. Lost 'em at thuh airport when I boarded thuh flight ter Heathrow".

"Professor", Ginny started in a quiet voice.

"Ummmm…"

"While you were there, did you… perhaps… hear any news about your Mum?"

"Ehhhh…?"

"Never mind… forget I asked…", she wasn't supposed to know about that.

"Dat's alrye, an' yeah, I did hear… Died… years ago. Giant fight, mos' prolloy".

"So sorry for your loss", they all agreed.

"Doan t'ink nuttin' uvit. Doan hardly recall her innyways, wasn' much of a mother, an' she broke me Dad's heart, leavin' like she done…"

The rest of what he intended to say was interrupted by a knocking at the door. They all looked around, surprised. A small figure rippled as a shadow against the closed curtain.

" _Fuck! It's her!"_ , Fred hissed as Fang woofed at the door. Ginny's cup slipped her grip, shattering on the stone floor.

"Under here!", Harry ordered as he pulled the Cloak over his head. Fred, George, and Ginny dived under the cover.

"Mugs!", Ginny called out.

Hagrid magicked the three extra mugs back into the cupboard.

"Fang! Shaddap!", he called out. "Who be callin' at a time like this?", as he went to open the door. He pushed the dog aside with a foot and pulled the door open, letting in an icy blast.

Professor Umbridge stood there in her tweed cloak with matching hat with ear flaps. Lips pursed, she leaned back as Hagrid's navel was at her eye level.

"So you're my missing professor? Hagrid, wasn't it?", she said in that faux pleasant tone of voice, but loudly, as though talking to someone hard of hearing, or too stupid to comprehend right away. She invited herself in, bulging eyes scanning the whole room.

"Errrr….", Hargrid began, "doan take dis ter wrong way, as I doan mean ter be rude, but just who the ruddy hell do ye t'ink ye be?"

She swung her handbag at Fang, who looked to be about to rise up to lick her face.

"My name is Dolores Umbridge", she finally introduced herself.

"Ain ye one of dem Mins'try folk? Worked fer Mins'ter Fudge?"

"Why yes", she said, "First Secretary to the Minister, and also Hogwarts Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor".

"Dat's mighty brave of ye. Not many leff who'd 'sider takin' thuh position, given thuh reputation…"

"And High Inquisitor", she added.

"Oh?", Hagrid never heard of any such position. "Whuz dat?"

"Precisely what I was going to ask", as she pointed to the broken china cup Ginny dropped.

"Well thah", he cast a most unwelcome, and guilty, eye towards the corner where Harry, Fred, George, and Ginny were hiding.

"Thah were Fang; he knocked it off'n thuh table with his tail".

"I thought I heard voices", she said in a much lower voice.

"Thah were a program on thuh Wizardin' Wireless Network", he nodded at the wireless set in the corner.

"There are also four sets of footprints leading straight to your door".

"I must'a missed 'em, thuh callers, I mean. Dint know boud dat".

"Yet, there are no return footprints, care to explain?"

"I shirly canna".

"You do know there is a curfew?", she explained as though talking to a four year old, "that all students are expected to be in their dorms after 9:00?"

"Dats what thuh rules say", Hagrid agreed.

"You wouldn't be covering for any misbehaving students, would you? As a Professor, that is one of your duties: seeing that the rules are followed".

All the while, she was looking under Hagrid's massive bed, big enough to conceal half a class. She opened all the cupboards. Twice, she came dangerously close to bumping into Harry and company. The last time, he has to suck in his stomach.

"If'n ye doan mine", Hagrid protested, "I'd shirly 'preciate a bit o' courtesy. Ye doan see me goin' through yer office".

"Oh, but I do mind, Professor. Your reputation precedes you. As for courtesy, I would have expected that you would have reported in at the Headmaster's office as soon as you arrived from where ever it was you disappeared to, Professor".

"Doan know what yez talkin' boud".

"You indulge your students quite a bit, Professor. We can't have that, oh my no: that will no longer do".

All the while, Umbridge was looking around everywhere. Twice her eyes passed the corner where Harry and the others were concealing themselves.

"No, P'fesser", he said apologetically.

"Good evening, Professor", Umbridge finally took her leave.

"Oh, by the way", she turned back. "Where have you been?", she asked.

"Where've I…"

"Been. Another professor had to cover for you ever since the term started over two months ago. How is it you're so late?"

"Well, I… been away… Fer me health… Some fresh air…"

"I can imagine that a gamekeeper would find fresh air hard to come by", she said sarcastically.

"Well, den… a change o' scenery…"

"The mountains, I imagine?"

" _Fuck! She knows!"_ , Harry thought.

"Mountains? Well, no, been to the south of France, sun 'n' sea, yannow".

"You don't seem to have much of a tan".

"Sensitive skin, been usin' sunscreen potion".

"You were seen boarding an airliner in Paris".

"Well, dats where thuh flight wen', south o' France. Me and Olympe…"

"That would be Madam Maxime from Beaux Batons?"

"Thuh vurry same, yep, me and Olympe…"

"How is it you know about muggle airlines?"

"Olympe knows awl bouddat. Where her ideer, akshully".

"Someone might get the idea you were trying to evade magical detection".

"Would'n know nuttin boud thah".

"I see, well, a good evening to you. A warning: don't be less than prompt in carrying out your duties to keep the High Inquisitor informed of your appearances and disappearances".

"Yes, Ma'am, I shirly will".

"Wait!", Ginny hissed at Fred and George, "she may not be gone yet!"

Hagrid was thinking the same, as he pulled back a sliver if curtain: "she gone", he announced.

"Dat were a close shave", Hagrid announced.

"Too close", they agreed.

Before leaving, they filled him in about Umbridge and the High Inquisitor's office, the audits and her new power to dismiss professors, and that Dumbledore could do nothing about any dismissals.

"Please, Hagrid", Ginny pleaded, "don't do anything strange in class. Keep it simple, crups and porlocks won't raise suspicion".

"Trelawney's already on probation", George reminded.

"I have a few ideers fer class…"

" _Don't!_ We wouldn't want to lose you. Just follow Professor Grubbly-Planc's syllabus".

"Been keepin' back a coupla critters. Ah recon aze thuh onny one wiff a d'mestik herd..."

"What critters?", Ginny asked, concerned. "Nothing dangerous, I hope. You heard: that Umbridge bitch is _looking_ for _any_ excuse to dismiss _any_ professors who're too close to Dumbledore!"

"Aze not sain", Hagrid said. "Thah spoil thuh surprise…"

"Hagrid! Listen to me!", Ginny demanded. "If you bring _anything_ to class that's the _least_ bit dangerous, Umbridge will be _pist._ You _don't_ want to piss her off. Believe me, I know better than anyone else here in this room…"

"How you mean, Ginny?"

"You'll hear all about it soon enough. Just keep it simple: teach us how to care for porlocks, how to tell the difference between knarls and hedgehogs. That's OWL level instruction".

"Thah not very int'restin'. Ah got sumpin really special. Doan worry, dey's not dang'rous, though dey kin take care of themseffs. Ah recon aze thuh onny one in awl of Britain wiff a d'mestik herd.

"Doan be worried boud me", he said as he placed a hand on Ginny's shoulder, causing her knees to buckle. "Sorry boud dat", he said as he pulled her up by the neck of her robe.

"Please reconsider: we don't want to lose you. We don't want to take the chance Umbridge will replace you with another one of her stooges. For the sake of your career, for the sake of your students… _all_ the students of Hogwarts… _please_ reconsider".

"Ah t'ink onnit", he promised, but none of them believed him. They knew Hagrid all too well.

Harry sneaked them back to their Common Rooms under the Cloak, and with the Marauders Map. As he cast the Obliteration Spell to remove their tracks through the snow, Fred spoke up.

"Doesn't look like you got through to him", he said to Ginny.

"I'll plan the whole damn course if I have to. I don't care whether Trelawney stays or goes, but she's _not_ taking down Hagrid!"

 _Owlery Holt_

"'Mornin'", Susan greeted as he left the guest bedroom. "Another bad dream?", she asked.

"No, not really… not anymore. It's not so scary after the 5,000 and third time. Just frustrating… that damn door, and I _still_ can't get through it".

"Why would that bother you? We know it's the Department of Mysteries and likely the Hall of Prophecies. Isn't that what Lucius said?"

"Someone mention my name?", Lucius asked as he turned from the river trout he was frying for his human guests.

"It was that dream again", Harry explained.

"That reminds me, I have the false prophecy ready to go to the Hall of Prophecies. Drop it off later tonight. So how'd it go at Hogwarts?"

"Hagrid's back. Brought news from his trip east".

"You'll have to tell us all about it, but breakfast first".

Harry and Susan were understanding Sirius' aversion to fish morning, noon, and night.

"So what happened?", Lucius asked as they settled in the sitting room.

Harry explained all about Hagrid's and Olympe's trip to the mountains of Belarus. The meeting with the Gurg, Karkus, his overthrow, that the new Gurg, Golgamath, was siding with Voldemort.

"It never ends", Lucius said.

"What never ends?", Sirius asked.

"That these damn fools always side with the ones promising an easy way out. Not hard to figure: Voldemort promises these giants that he'll clear their way back to Britain, that they'll have their revenge, and they'll believe it. Never mind he'll screw them over as soon as he gets what he wants from them".

"You know what they say?", Harry explained. "He who robs Peter to pay Paul can always count on Paul's vote.

"So what does this new prophecy say?"

"According to Dumbledore, Voldmort didn't hear the whole thing. I'm guessing he heard the first two lines. That's enough to send him after Harry.

 _The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches  
_ _Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies  
_ _The Dark Lord will mark him, but the Dark Lord will have a power he knows not  
_ _The Dark Lord will vanquish the one born as the seventh month dies_

"I'm sure this will appeal to his vanity. We know he's after this prophecy, that's what the dream is all about, why Dumbledore's so interested in seeing that corridor into the Department of Mysteries is being patrolled by the Order of the Phoenix. So we get this bit of disinformation into his hands".

"How will we?"

"Isn't it pretty obvious? _You're_ going to get it for him, Harry. It's only a question of when and how. You've said it yourself: Voldemort's growing quite impatient the longer he's frustrated with obtaining this prophecy. Sooner or later, he will run out of options. He won't want to take a chance that someone might succeed where Podmore failed and destroy it before he hears it.

"He's either sending you this vision deliberately, or he's always thinking that he needs you to get it for him, and you're picking up on those stray thoughts without his realizing you know about them. I don't know which just yet, but I don't think it really makes a difference. We know what he's up to, and so does Dumbledore".

"I still don't like it", Sirius said, "Harry: you should cut off these visions. If he finds out, you don't want Whatshisname inside your head".

"He's already there, I'm afraid. We've known it since that first year incident. Every time I got near Quirrel that damn scar acted up, and we know he was possessed. Believe me, it's not a whole lot of fun, having a cursed scar that's always going off".

"We do need to know", Lucius and Amelia agreed.

In the early morning hours, Lucius apparated directly inside the Hall of Prophecies. He had with him a glass sphere that glowed green. He made his way through the racks, climbed up one rack, three-handed, to place the glowing sphere in a vacancy underneath which was a card reading: Harry James Potter and Thomas Marvolo Riddle that was signed A. Dumbledore. A quick dusting charm, and it looked as authentic as any other prophecy sphere.

 _Hogwarts_

Sunday morning, Ginny ploughed through two feet of the snow that fell that night to Hagrid's cabin. Up in the Gryffindor Common Room, Fred, George, and Ron were stuck. The mountain of homework having risen, once again, to alarming proportions. They knew that outside those students who hadn't neglected their homework were entertaining themselves with ice skating on the frozen lake, coasting, and snowball fights. It was another clear, though cold, day – the kind of day one really didn't want to waste by being stuck inside doing neglected homework.

"C'mon, let me in", Ginny pleaded with the Fat Lady.

"No password, no entry", she said. "You don't belong here, Ravenclaw…"

"Don't give me any of that bullshit. _Three_ of my brothers are Gryffindor's, so _OPEN UP!_ ", she demanded.

Forch, she was heard, and Ron opened the portal.

"She's not a…"

"Go fuck yourself", Ginny said as she stepped into the Common Room.

"Ginny? Come for a visit?", Ron said.

"How'd it go with Hagrid?", Fred asked.

"Got his lesson plans worked out?", George asked.

Ginny made a sort of squiggly wand move that sent a stream of hot air from the tip which she used to dry her robes that were damp to the knees.

"I wish", she said. "I had to wait for a half hour before he came stumping out of the Forbidden Forest…"

Fred and George both groaned: the forest was filled with just the sorts of critters likely to get Hagrid fired.

"I tried explaining about Umbridge, but I don't think he heard half of what I had to say. All he did was go on and on about what a fabulous surprise he had…"

"He say what's in there?", George asked.

"He said he didn't want to spoil the surprise, and I don't like the sound of that. I tried telling him to follow Grubbly-Planc's lessons, to stick with knarls. He said, and I quote: 'No one in their right mind would rather study knarls than chimera'"

"No shit? Do you suppose…", Fred began.

"No, I don't believe he has a chimera, at least not for a lack of trying based on how hard he said it was to get the eggs. I can't get through to him, that he _really_ needs to stick with critters that can't take off an arm, leg, or head. That's _all_ he wanted to talk about: this great surprise he has for us".

Ginny, robes now dry, put up her wand.

"He is just so _damned_ stubborn", she was complaining. "No common sense whatsoever; still believes that whatever shitstorm he creates Dumbledore will bail him out. I can't seem to make him understand that the whole game's changed with Umbridge here. I fear we'll be saying 'Goodbye' to our Care of Magical Creatures prof in the not too distant future. Hope Grubbly-Planc's still available. Merlin knows who she'll replace Hagrid with".

"I hope you're wrong", Ron said.

"I hope so, too, but I don't think I am".

 **0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF**

The next Monday, Hagrid's return to the staff table was greeted with enthusiasm, especially from the Gryffindor table. Ron, Fred, George, and Lee sprinted up the aisle between the Gryffindor and Slytherin tables to wring his enormous hand. Michael and Horace exchanged eye-rolls. Ginny knew what they were thinking, that Grubbly-Planc's idea of an interesting class didn't involve the possibility that someone's head might get torn off. And that she wasn't an easy 'O'.

 _Care of Magical Creatures_

Hagrid's first lesson upon his sudden return was on a clear, but very cold, day. The class, heavily muffled and charmed against the cold, made their way to the cabin. Ginny was hoping against hope that the High Inquisitor wouldn't be there, as she was concerned with how some, especially the Slytherins, would act if she were. So far, Umbridge was no where to be seen.

"Gather roun", Hagrid called out. He was by the Forest, next to what looked like half a dead cow. "we be workin' in here", he said as he pointed behind him. "Bit more sheltered in dere, an' dey perfer thuh dark", he announced.

"What prefers the dark?", Draco called out.

"Did you hear, what prefers the dark?", he asked Luna.

"No idea", she said.

"Bess be getting' along", Hagrid called out as he hefted the cow with a slight grunt as he slung it over a shoulder. "Stay t'gether an' doan be wand'rin", he admonished as he led the way into the Forest. "We'll be studyin dese critters in deir nat'ral habitat, pretty rare, too. Ah reckon Ah's thuh on'y one who ever managed ter train 'em…"

"You're sure you trained them?", Draco called out. "Not exactly the first time you brought wild animals to class".

Even some Gryffindor's thought he had a fair point.

"'Course dere trained", he said as he hefted the half cow a little higher. "Now, If'n yez all done askin' questions, foller me".

They followed, uneasily, as Hagrid led them deeper into the Forest. About a ten minute walk to a place where the trees grew so thick that it was like twilight, and no snow managed to penetrate to the forest floor.

Hagrid deposited the cow and turned to face the class: "Gather 'roun", he announced. "Dey'll smell thuh fresh meat soon enough, but I'll be callin' 'em as dey like ter know it's me".

The class approached warily, from tree to tree, looking over their shoulders and around the trees, as though expecting to be attacked from and side, any minute.

Hagrid threw back his head, shook the hair out of his face, as he gave a cry like that of some monstrous bird. He waited, then repeated the call. For a third time, Hagrid shook out his hair, expanded his enormous chest and let loose a third blast.

Luna nudged Draco, as she pointed to a gap between two gnarled yew trees. A pair of silver eyes showed through the dark space, growing larger, then appeared attached to a dragonish face and neck. The form of a skeletal, black horse slipped through the trees. Tail swishing, it looked around the students as it sniffed at the meat. Then it tore into the delicacy with its fanged teeth.

Draco wondered what she could possibly be pointing at. Ron whispered to Fred and George: "Why doesn't he call them again? Doesn't look like they're comin'"

Everyone was looking all around everywhere but at the horse who stood just feet away. Luna looked around: the only ones who seemed to be able to see them were Neville, whose eyes followed the swishing black tail, and a stringy Slytherin boy who watched the horse feeding with a look of utter disgust.

"Oh an' here comes anudder one", Hagrid announced as the second "horse" folded its wings and started tearing into the cow.

"If'n yez kin seeum, raise yer hands", Hagrid called out.

"See… what?", Ron called out.

Luna, Neville, and that unfamiliar boy were the only ones with hands up.

"Excuse me", Draco called out, "but what – exactly – are we supposed to be seeing?"

Luna gave a nudge and pointed to the cow. Strips of flesh were peeling away, rising in a curve before disappearing.

Parvati squealed: "What's _doing_ it?", she called out. " _What's eating it?_!", she demanded.

"Thestrals", Hagrid announced.

"Thestra… what?", Ron asked.

"Thestrals", Hagrid repeated himself. "Kin innyone tell us why mos' uv yez canna seeum?"

Most looked around, clueless.

"Naw, not ye, Luna", Hagrid said when her hand went up, "I knows ye knows thuh answer. Innione else?"

"Yes, Miss Ginny?", Hagrid said.

"You can't see thestrals unless you've seen death".

"Exackly, Miss Ginny, an' have ten points fer Ravenclaw…"

" _YUCK!"_ , Parvati called out. "They're harbingers _nothing_ good. They bring _all sorts_ of misfortune and bad luck!"

Two more came out of the forest, one stepping right in front of Parvati. "Something just touched me!", she squealed.

"Thas not rye", Hagrid shook his massive head. "Hogwarts has a herd of aboud a hunnerd. Thass juss some silly, ig'nant superstition, ain nuttin ter it. Thestrals are quy clever an' dead useful. Ever year, dey pull the carriages from Hogsmeade. Yez been in contac with 'em ever since yer second year, an' ye dint even know it. Has innyone had inny bad luck? Inny tragedies? Innyone?"

He waited. No one said a thing.

"Dass what Ah been sain a'long: folks doan like 'em cuzz dey remin' us of dem's we loved and miss. Dey canna hepps it, canna hepps bein' what dey is…

"Hem, hem!", Umbridge had arrived. Hagrid, not knowing about this habit of hers, looked around, thinking one of the thestrals had made it.

"HEM! HEM!", she made it more insistently, getting Hagrid's attention.

"Oh, Hi there…", he called out.

"I trust you received the note I sent to your cabin, telling you about your audit?"

"Shirly, I did. Glad ter see ye foun' us", he said. "As ye can see… or maybe ye canna… we're doin' thestrals dis mornin'".

"Excuse me", she said, "what did you say?", she asked as she put her hands behind her ears.

"Thestrals", Hagrid repeated, "large, winged horses, yannow".

He flapped his arms, and she wrote something, but said it loudly enough to be sure she was heard.

"Has… to… resort… to… crude… sign… language"

"Well, innyway, what was Ah sain…"

"Appears… to… have… short… term… memory… problems"

"Well, Ah was aboud ter tell yez how we gotta herd", he regained his train of thought. "Dis one here...", he patted the first thestral to appear, though looking like a mime, "… name of Tenebrus, he was thuh firs' one born here in thuh foress. He's my fav'rite. Started with a male an' five females…"

"You are aware, are you not Professor, that the Ministry has classified thestrals as dangerous wildlife?", Umbridge interrupted loudly.

"Thah ain true", Hagrid disagreed. Nuttin dang'rous boud thestrals. T'aint a gent'ler critter. Thah's juss an ig'nant superstition. Oh sure, dey migh' take a nip outta yez if'n ye doan treat 'em rye…"

"Shows… utter… disregard… for… regulations… seems… to… delight… in… the… possibility… of… wildlife… accidents…"

"Now hole on", Hagrid protested, "even a dog'll take a nip if'n ye doan treat him rye. Dass true of _inny_ critter. It's juss thuh death thing, folks t'inkin' dey's bad omens dint dey? Dey juss dint unnerstan' did dey?"

"I have enough for now", Umbridge cut him off. "I'm going to…", she walked in place, "… walk among the class…", she pointed to each student in turn, "… to ask them some questions…", she pointed at her mouth.

Hagrid wondered, flummoxed, as to why she was doing this, as if he didn't speak English just fine.

"You bitch!", Ginny hissed through clenched teeth beneath her breathe. " _You evil old cunt!_ I know what you're doing!"

"Ummmm… innyways… thestrals… There's loads of good things aboud dem…"

Umbridge stepped up to Pansy Parkinson: "Do you have any problems understanding what Professor Hagrid says?"

"No. Ma'am, none at all", she said. Umbridge looked positively shocked and surprised. She expected all Slytherins to automatically be on her side.

"I understand you can see the thestrals?", she asked of Neville.

"Yes, Professor".

"Whom did you see die?", she asked with utter indifference.

"With all due respect, that's none of your business, Professor".

"Twenty points from Gryffindor for insolence", she said. "Let's try again, shall we? What do you think of the thestrals?"

"They're OK, I guess…"

"Students… seem… too… intimidated… to… admit… they're… frightened…"

"I'm not afraid of them!", Neville protested.

"Ten more points from Gryffindor for that outburst. I'm finished questioning you, so you don't dare question me or I'll add a detention. Is that understood, Mr. Longbottom?"

"Yes, Professor"

"Innyways, Ah was sain, if'n ye has a thestral, ye woan hafta worry boud getting' lost. Dey have an amazin' sense of direction…"

"Professor Hagrid", Umbridge said, "you'll receive…", she imitated snatching something from the air, "… your evaluation…", she pointed at her clipboard, "… in ten days…", as she held up ten fingers.

"That, foul, lying, twisted, old gargoyle!", Ginny was complaining as they made their way back to the castle. "You see what she's trying to do?"

"Hold on", Ron protested, "I thought you and the rest of the book worms wanted Grubbly-Planc back?"

"Not like this", Ginny explained, "she's making Hagrid out to look like some sort of dim-witted troll just because he has a Northern accent. That's not right, and it wasn't a bad lesson at all. He's right about thestrals: they classify them as dangerous because you can't see them if you haven't seen death. It _is_ just an ignorant superstition, just like Hagrid said. If they were that dangerous, then how come we haven't seen any accidents with the carriages?"

"Good point", George agreed.

 **0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF**

December arrived with even more snow, and an avalanche of homework for Fred, George, and the rest of the Fifth Years. So far, no word about Hagrid, and whether he was on probation or not. He did, however, seem to finally take Ginny's advice. The next time Umbridge dropped by his class, held in the warmth of the cabin, he was teaching how to recognize crups. These magical animals looked a lot like a Jack Russel terrier, except for the forked tail.

The final lesson of the DA, Harry had an announcement.

"Everyone", he called out as he pointed to a basket, "we have a solution to the communication problem. Everyone, take one". He passed the basket around. Inside were Galleons.

"If you'll notice right around the rim", he indicated where to look, "you will see a number. On real Galleons, it's a serial number that keeps track of the mint where the coins were struck. On these, the numbers will change to tell you the date and time of the next meet-up. These Galleons will grow warm in your pocket to let you know there's a new message incoming. That way, we won't need to be seen together all the time, and if Umbitch makes you turn out your pockets, there's nothing suspicious about having one or more Galleons. Just be careful you don't spend them".

"Where'd you get these?", he was asked.

"It was Hermione's idea; she prepared them for us", he explained.

"Since we won't meet again before the end of the holidays", Amelia announced, "I thought we'd review. So far, you've learned the disarming spell, the stunning spell, and the impediment jinx. After the holidays, then we can get started with the Patronus Charm.

"I thought we could practice the Impedimentia jinx for the first ten minutes", she said.

Everyone paired off and fired off: "Impedimentia!"

While their partners waited to unfreeze, they all looked around at how others were doing. Harry saw that Neville was improving fast. He froze Padma three times in a row. After the ten minutes:

"That's all very good", Amelia congratulated. "Next, we'll review Stunning, then finish up with disarming".

They laid out the cushions to practice the Stupify spell. Neville's only mistake was stunning Parvati instead of his partner for this exercise, Dean Thomas.

At the end of the hour, Amelia gave them all a pep talk, congratulating them for how well they'd done, how far they'd come. They left by ones and twos, saying 'Merry Christmas' as they went back to their dorms. Harry and Amelia stayed behind to gather up and put away the cushions.

"What's on your mind?', Amelia asked.

"This is all well and good, but it's one thing here in the Room, but what about outside, under real fire?"

"It's not the same", she agreed. "It never is, but it's a whole lot more than they'd have otherwise. How was it when those dementors showed up? You had only practiced with Lupin, hadn't you?"

"Yes…"

"Yet you produced a Patronus under fire, didn't you? I hope your friends here never need anything we're teaching, but if they do, they'll be as prepared as well as they can be. You just have to trust they'll know what to do".

 _Owlery Holt_

It began as a rather silly dream. Harry was back at Hogwarts, the Room of Requirement. It was just he and Cho Chang. ("I never much liked her") some part of his mind reminded.

"What?", he asked her.

"You said you had Chocolate Frog cards for me".

"I did?"

"Cedric was always giving me his cards".

With that, she withdrew handful after impossible handful of these cards from inside her robe and threw them into the air where they seemed to replicate to impossible numbers that settled slowly to the floor

"Did you lure me here under false pretenses?", Cho asked.

The next time he looked, Cho was gone, but Hermione was there instead.

"You did promise, Harry", she reminded. "It's only fair, you should give her your Firebolt".

"No, not that…"

"You're not using it as you don't play Quiddich anymore…"

The dream changed. This time, his whole body had changed. Now it was sleek and powerful as he slithered along a totally dark corridor. Though there wasn't a trace of visible light, he could still see in strange colours. Through metal bars and down a cool, stone floor, the residual warmth of the torch sconces and the stone walls glowed almost as brightly as though they were still lit.

Around a corner, and he saw the heat of a body. It was a man with his back against the wall just in front of a sealed door. He stuck out and waved his tongue and tasted the man's scent. He was dozing, sleeping on duty. No matter, let him sleep: he had a more important job.

As he was slipping up on the man, he jerked awake. He stood, a gossimer cloak dropping around his feet, he towered over Harry. He was pulling a wand from his belt. Now he had no choice: he reared up and struck. Once, twice, a third time: he felt his fangs penetrate his flesh, tasted the blood, felt ribs crack under powerful jaws. The man slumped back against the wall, and slid down to collapse on the floor. Blood streaks marking where he slid down the wall. A thick, dark pool of blood slowly spreading across the floor. He got a good look at who this was…

His head felt fit to explode.

"Harry? Harry!"

He was vaguely aware someone was calling his name…

"HARRY! HARRR-RRRYYYYY!"

He was awake, soaked in cold sweat, the covers and sheets wrapped all around him like a strait jacket. It felt like a white hot poker jabbing his head. He was aware of someone's looking down at him. It took him awhile to register who this was: Susan Bones. More figures at the foot of the bed. He clutched his head, the pain actually blinding him. He rolled over just in time to vomit over the edge of the mattress.

"I… think he's really sick. Maybe we should call someone…"

"You OK?", Sirius asked.

Harry tried forcing himself to sit up, breathing heavily, resisting the urge to throw up again…

"Listen", he forced out. "It's Mr Weasley… he's been attacked… I mean I attacked him… Blood everywhere… He's dying…"

"What are you talking about?", Amelia asked.

"It was just a dream", Sirius said, "just a nightmare…"

"No!", he insisted. "It _wasn't! I_ was there; _I did it!_

"I'd better check this out", said a high pitched, squeaky voice. Lucius Lutra.

"Susan: sit with him", he ordered.

Lucius led Sirius and Amelia to the main drawing room, and turned on all the lights.

"Do you really think there's anything to this?", she asked.

"He's had these visions before", Sirius said.

"We're about to find out", with that, Lucius disapparated straight to the Department of Mysteries.

"I don't think…", Susan said.

"I have to", Harry sat up and got up.

Lucius quickly found Arthur Weasley right where Harry said: just outside the entrance to the Department of Mysteries. Getting attention was no problem: Lucius fired a curse at the door, instantly setting off the wards. He disapparated just ahead of the aurors.

"It's like Harry said: Arthur Weasley in that corridor leading to the Department of Mysteries. He's is a bad way, still alive, but it looks like he's a gonner…"

"How can we tell?"

"He'll be on his way to St Mungos for sure. However, we have a more pressing matter, and that's letting the rest of the family know what's happened. Best they hear it from one who's known, and not some anonymous contacts. I'll be on my way to the Burrow".

With that, Lucius disapparated.

 _The Burrow_

Lucius apparated straight into the house. He could see from Molly's "clock" that Arthur was still alive, as its hand pointed to "mortal danger". He called out with that high pitched, loud otter-voice which nature intended to be heard through dense forest. That got Molly's attention, as she came down the stairs, wand in hand.

"Hold your fire!", he called out. "It's me: Lucius".

"What are…", she started to ask, before consulting her "clock".

"That's what I came to tell you", he explained. "Arthur's been hurt. At the Department of Mysteries, he was on guard duty for the Order of the Phoenix…"

He wondered if Molly had heard a word he said. This was her greatest, secret fear: that one or more of her family would die while on duty. It was the very image of her husband, lying in a pool of blood, that a boggart used to terrify her back at 12 Grimmauld. She was wailing.

"I'll get you something", he said. He recalled from his last visit where they kept the Ogden's.

"Here, drink this", he offered the fire whiskey.

"Wha… what… happened?", she was finally able to ask.

"Arthur was attacked right outside the Department of Mysteries where he was on guard. A giant snake…"

"A… _snake?_!", she asked, incredulous.

"That's what it was, yes. Last time I could see, he was still alive, but honestly, he's in a bad way. Probably on his way to St Mungos".

"The kids… I have to go".

"I'll take my leave, and hope for the best for Arthur".

"Thank you, again, for saving the family".

"I'll accept for Harry".

"Harry?"

"Yes, it was he who saw the whole thing. One of his visions".

Lucius apparated back to Owlery Holt.

 _Hogwarts: Dumbledore's Office_

"Attacked? Arthur?", Dumbledore asked. Molly flooed straight to Dumbledore's office. Forch, he was still up.

"That's what I said!", Molly insisted. "The kids: they have to know!"

"How do you know this?"

"Does it matter! Albus!"

"I'm afraid it does".

"Harry. It was Harry: he saw the attack in a vision…"

Dumbledore said nothing, but fetched one of his peculiar silver instruments from the spindly table where it sat, inert. He brought it to his desk, and gave it a tap with his wand. It began to whirr and tick. Green puffs of smoke issued from its miniature smoke stack. The puffs turned into a steady stream of smoke. A serpent's head appeared, opened its mouth.

"Naturally, naturally", he said to himself.

Molly wondered what this was all about.

"In essence, divided?", he asked.

The smoke serpent split into two distinct serpents. He tapped the instrument again, and it deactivated.

Dumbledore got up and went to the wall where the portraits of past Headmasters and Mistresses hung.

"Everard", he called out. "You too, Dilys"

The subjects, looking like they were fast asleep opened their eyes at once.

"You heard?"

"Yes", replied a sallow-faced wizard with short, black bangs spoke up.

"Always", said an older woman with long, silver ringlets.

"I need you to check out what happened at the Ministry, and what's going on at St Mungos"

"Right away", Everard slipped from his frame.

"I'll keep watch", the woman, Dilys, promised.

"Everard and Dilys were two of the most renouned Headmasters and Headmistresses of Hogwarts. They have portraits in almost every wizarding institution", Dumbledore explained.

"This is serious, and I will need to have a talk with Harry…"

He held up a hand to silence her objection: "I know you're in contact with this Order of the Otter, and I know they have Harry. Ever since Harry was here during his first year, I have known that he shares a special connection with Voldemort. We saw how he reacted to Voldemort in Quirrel. At first, it was just his sensing Voldemort's proximity, or sensing his feelings, especially powerful emotions.

"Now, I fear it's gone beyond that. These visions demonstrate that the ties between Harry and Voldemort are growing stronger, and I fear the consequences should Voldemort realize what Harry's doing. Molly, I must insist: I need to discuss this with him ASAP".

Everard was back within a few minutes: "It's as she said. Everyone's talking about the snake attack. The aurors have been all over the Department of Mysteries, but there's no sign of that snake anywhere. They're saying that Arthur Weasley was undoubtedly attacked by something pretty big, and it could easily have been a snake. He left alive, but badly hurt. He's been rushed to St Mungos".

"Minerva, would you go to Gryffindor Tower and bring Fred, George, and Ron. Alert Filius to bring Ginny".

"Right away, Professor", McGonagall left to get the kids.

"We'll be needing extra chairs".

Before leaving, McGonagall conjured enough chairs for everyone.

Dilys returned: "Found him at St Mungos. He was brought in, alive, and was sent straight to emergency. I'm sorry, but I don't know his current condition".

"Hell's goin' on?", they heard Fred's complaint.

McGonagall ushered the three Weasley boys into the office.

" _Mom?!",_ they asked.

"Please, be seated", Dumbledore invited. "Ginny should be here soon".

He went to the stand where Fawkes, the phoenix, was asleep. He gently stroked the bird until his head emerged from under a wing.

"We need a look-out", Dumbledore said to his pet as if he understood every word. The phoenix disappeared in a flash of fire.

"What's goin on?!", Fred and George called out.

"Yeah", Ron agreed, "in the middle of the night!"

"When your sister arrives, I will explain", Dumbledore promised.

Ginny soon arrived with Flitwick.

"Have a seat", Dumbledore said before she could say a word.

"I have some bad news, I'm afraid", Dumbledore started. "It's your father: he's been attacked…"

" _Attacked?_!", they called out.

"How?", Fred and George asked.

"Who?", Ron asked.

"Is he all right?", Ginny asked.

"So far as I know, the last word I have, is that Arthur is alive, but barely. It's bad, and the healers are trying to save his life as we speak…"

" _Howcanthishappen?!",_ Ginny wanted to know.

"I'm not certain myself, but he was on duty for the Order, keeping watch over the Department of Mysteries. He was attacked by a snake…"

"How could a _snake_ get inside the Ministry?!", Ginny wanted to know.

"I have no idea, but I'm sure the aurors are working on it".

"When can we see him?"

"I don't know that either", Dumbledore said. "I'm sending all of you to HQ. It's closer to St Mungos than the Burrow, and you'll be safer there until I can get this thing figured out".

"How will we go? The floo?"

Dumbledore went through his overstuffed closet, and fished out a small, fire-blackened kettle that hardly looked big enough to contain one can of baked beans.

"By portkey, I'm not certain that Hogwarts Floo Network connections aren't compromised".

He pointed his wand at the small kettle: "Portus"

The kettle glowed with a strange blue light as it hopped and jumped as though moved by its own private earthquake. It returned to normal after about five seconds or so.

There was a flash of light up by the ceiling, and a single golden feather floated to the ground. Dumbledore reached out to catch it.

"Fawkes' warning", he announced. "She knows you're out of your dorms. Minerva: head her off, delay her, any way you can".

Ginny didn't need to ask who the "she" that knew they weren't in their dorms was.

"Right away, Professor".

McGonagall left in a swirl of green tartan.

"You've used a portkey before? Take hold of the kettle, even just a finger will do. I will stop by when I am able. On the count of three: One (tap)… Two (tap)… Three (tap)…" Molly and the kids were gone in an instant.

 _Owlery Holt_

"I need to see it", Lucius requested. He'd set up his memory thief again. "You've done this before".

"I… don't know…"

"What's the problem? Harry, tell me?"

"It's just that, well… I was the snake that attacked Mr Weasley"

"You didn't do it".

"What if I did it?"

"I can assure you: that's not possible. Voldemort can't come in here, sneak you out of bed, take you to the Department of Mysteries, turn you into a snake, and bring you back without me, or Sirius, or Madam Bones knowing about it".

"What about Quirrel? What about Ginny?"

"What about them? Do you have periods of time you can't account for? Ever find yourself somewhere without knowing how you got there, or why you went there?"

"Well… no…"

"Then you aren't possessed, and you have nothing to worry about".

"What if I hurt someone when you bring it back?"

"You wouldn't do that. I have more faith in you than that".

"If you're sure?"

"I am. It's important".

Harry put on the headset: "Just relax, and I'll bring up the memory".

It was hard, having to live through the vision all over again.

"Well?", Harry asked.

"I'm afraid we have a problem, a big one".

"And that would be?"

"This connection with Voldemort: it's getting stronger. If he doesn't know about it by now, it won't be too much longer. If that psychic connection turns into a two way street, you very well could wind up possessed".

"How is that possible? It was a snake".

"A snake who's possessed somehow. We know he has this alter ego, this familiar that's much more than just a pet. Before, your visions were from a third person point of view. This time, you were in that snake, right there with Voldemort, seeing everything through his eyes…"

"You mean, I could have prevented it?"

"No, Harry, that's not what I mean. What I do mean is you connected more closely than ever before. He's got to know. If he hasn't figured it out by now, one or two more of these 'visions', and he will".

"What do I do about it?"

"You're an accomplished Occlumens. Shut him out, and stop these 'dreams'. Seal the door before he ever knows there was one".

"What about the intel?"

"We'll get it the old fashioned way".


End file.
